






Copyright N°. — 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 


I 


♦ 








r 







THE 

YELLOW 

PEARL 

ADELINE 
M. TESKEY 















♦ 








THE YELLOW 
PEARL 

A STORY OF THE EAST AND 
THE WEST 


BY 

ADELINE M. TESKEY 

\* 

Author of “Where the Sugar Maple 
Grows,’* etc. 



HODDER AND STOUGHTON 

NEW YORK 

GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 


Copyright, 1911 , 

By George H. Doran Company 


THE 

YELLOW 

PEARL 

ADELINE 
M. TESKEY 


4 



THE YELLOW PEARL 


March ist, i 

Here I am in this strange country about 
which I have learned in the geography and 
history, and about which I heard my 
father talk. The daughter of an American 
man and a Chinese woman, I suppose I am 
what is called a mongrel. My father was ^ 
a Commissioner of Customs in China, 
and living for years in that country he 
fell in love with my mother and married 
her — as was natural. Who could help 
falling in love with my dear, yellow, win- 
some, little mother? My name is Mar- 
garet, called after my father’s mother; 
my father said that the word Margaret 
means a pearl, so he gave me the pet 
name “Pearl.” Dear father! 

3 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“It was a monstrous thing for Brother 
George to marry away there,” I over- 
heard my Aunt Gwendolin remark a 
short time after my arrival. “Why could 
he not have come back home to his own 
country and found a wife ? — And above 
all to have married a heathen Chinese!” 

“Not a heathen,” said my grand- 
mother, reproachfully, “she had previous- 
ly embraced the faith of Europeans; so 
my dear George wrote me from that 
far-away country.” 

“Oh, they are all heathens in my 
estimation,” cried my Aunt Gwendolin, 
scornfully; “what faith they embrace 
does not change the fact that they be- 
long to the yellow people.” 

My mother died while I was yet a 
child, and my father has died and left 
me alone in the world within the last 
year. Grandmother, my father’s mother, 
4 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


when she learned about her son’s death, 
sent at once for me. 

“I cannot leave a granddaughter of 
mine in that country, and among that 
heathen, if not barbarous, people,” she 
wrote to the American consul, “and I 
ask your services to assist her to come 
to my home in America.” 

The consul, absent-minded, gave me 
my grandmother’s letter to read, and 
thus I learned her feeling about my 
mother’s people and country. I never 
would have come to this horrible America 
if I could have helped myself; but I am 
scarcely of age, and by my father’s will 
grandmother is appointed my guardian. 

The result of it all is, that having 
crossed the intervening waters, I am 
here in the home of my grandmother, 
my Aunt Gwendolin and my Uncle 
Theodore Morgan. 

5 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


i When I arrived this morning I was 
ushered into the sitting-room by a maid, 
and the first one I beheld was my grand- 
mother, sitting in a rocking-chair. She 
called me to her, and crossing the room, 
I kotowed to her, that is I went down on 
my hands and knees and touched my 
forehead to the floor, as my Chinese 
nurse had taught me when I was yet 
a baby that I should always do when I 
came into the presence of an elderly 
woman, a mother of children. 

“My dear grandchild!” cried my 
grandmother, “do get up. All you 
should do is to kiss me — your grand- 
mother!” And she put out her hand 
and assisted me from the floor. 

'i Grandmother is the dearest, prettiest 
little woman I ever saw, with white 
hair and the brightest of eyes, and I 
have to love her, although I had made 
6 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


up my mind to hate everything in Amer- 
ica. A moment after she had lifted me 
from the floor, my Aunt Gwendolin 
came in. She is tall and thin, not 
nearly so beautiful a woman as my 
Chinese mother. She wears skirts that 
drag on the floor, and her hair is built 
up into a sort of a mountain on top of 
her head. I am reminded every time I 
look at her of a certain peak in the Thian 
Shan mountains. I very much prefer 
little women, like my own dear mother, 
like the women of my own country. 

My Uncle Theodore is long-armed, 
long-legged, long-bodied. He looks a 
little like my father, and for that 
reason I hate him a little less than my 
Aunt Gwendolin. 

After my mother’s death, my father 
brought into our home a French gover- 
ness, daughter of a French consul, to 
7 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


teach me. Father seemed to be lost 
in his business, or his grief at the loss of 
my mother, and paid very little heed to 
me after the arrival of the governess. 

“She is an educated woman,” he told 
me when he had engaged her, “and I 
want her to teach you all you could 
learn in a first-class girls’ school in 
Europe or America.” 

After that the French governess spent 
hours with me every day, and I saw 
my father only at intervals. How much 
we talked about, that French lady and 
I! Everything, almost, except religion; 
that my father vetoed, as her faith was 
not the one he wished me to embrace. 
“I’ll take you over to your grandmother 
by and by,” he used to say, “to get the 
proper religious instruction.” 

The governess said that I inherited 
more from my father’s side of the house 
8 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


than my mother’s; that although I was 
born in China, I was more of an Occi- 
dental than an Oriental; more than 
once she said that my American manner- 
isms and tricks of speech were really 
remarkable, and that I was a living 
example of the power of heredity. But 
I am never going back on my mother’s 
people, never, my dear little oval-faced 
mother whose grave is under a spreading 
camphor tree at the heart of the 
world. 

Does it ' not mean something that 
China is at the centre of the world — 
the kernel? 

“The girl is not bad to look at, in 
fact I think she is a beauty — a face 
filled with the indescribable dash of 
the Orient,” said my Uncle Theodore, 
when they were talking me over in the 
sitting-room after I had retired to my 
9 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


chamber upstairs. Evidently they had 
forgotten the opening in the floor which 
had been left by the workmen while 
making some changes in the plumbing. 
And they did not know my extraor- 
dinary keenness of hearing, which 
my governess said was an Oriental 
trait. 

It seemed to give my governess some 
pleasure to talk about that keen sense 
of the Orientals, and to speculate as 
to how they had acquired it. “They 
have lived in a country where it is 
necessary, for self-protection, to hear all 
that is being plotted and planned,” she 
said, “a country of conspiracies and 
intrigues, of plots and counterplots. 
Centuries of this have developed abnormal 
hearing.” 

“She has a superb figure,” said my 
uncle, continuing to talk about me, “and 
io 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


that oval face of hers, with her creamy 
complexion, is really bewitching.” 

“Yellow! you mean, yellow!” inter- 
rupted my Aunt Gwendolin; “she’s en- 
tirely too yellow for beauty. I’m terri- 
bly afraid that some of our set will 
discover her nationality. That’s one 
thing you must remember, Theodore, 
nobody on this continent is ever to learn 
anything about her Chinese blood. They 
are so despised here as a race. She is 
our brother’s daughter, with some 
foreign strain inherited from her mother; 
that is enough; never, never , let us 
acknowledge the Chinese. The Italians 
and Spanish are yellowish too, — I 
have it!” she exclaimed, “ Spanish ! — 
Spanish will do! — Some of those 
are our people now, you know! It 
will be quite interesting to have her 
a native of one of our Dependencies 
ii 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


— a descendant of some old Spanish 
family!” 

“Do not be foolish, Gwendolin,” said 
my grandmother. 

“I could not endure the thought of 
introducing a Celestial,” continued my 
aunt. “None must know that we have 
introduced the Yellow Peril into the 
country!” 

“Why, Gwendolin, how you do talk,” 
said my^grandmother; “the child’s father 
was an American, and she was admitted 
into this country as an American.” 

“You must talk with the girl to- 
morrow, Theodore,” continued my aunt, 
ignoring my grandmother’s remark, “and 
tell her to keep sacred her progenitors. 
She speaks such perfect English no one 
would suspect that there was much for- 
eign about her.” 

“She has a striking, unusual air that 
12 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


would attract a second glance from most 
people,” said my uncle. “If you can 
keep her nationality from Professor Bal- 
lington you will do better than I think 
you can; he is a great ethnologist; it is 
his life-work to make discoveries in 
that line.” 

“Well it must be kept, no matter what 
means we resort to,” returned my Aunt 
Gwendolin, with a ring of determination 
in her voice. 

“Poor child,” said my dear old grand- 
mother, “she is my granddaughter, 
and I love her already, my George’s 
child. She looks beautiful to me whether 
yellow or no.” 

I had gone down to dinner on this 
first evening in a soft yellow silk, with 
long flowing sleeves trimmed with 
dragons. I know I looked well in it. 
Governess always said I did. It was 
13 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


partly Chinese and partly European 
in design. Governess planned it her- 
self, and she said the French were born 
with a knowledge how to dress artisti- 
cally; she boasted that she made it to 
suit my peculiar style. 

“Did you notice that China silk she 
had on at dinner?” said Aunt Gwendolin; 
“there must be an end to all that; a 
ban must be put on everything Chinese.” 

“It was rather becoming I thought,” 
said Uncle Theodore, “in harmony 
with the clear yellow of her skin. Let 
her dress alone, she seems to know how 
to put it. That is a born gift with some 
women, and if it is not, they never seem 
to acquire it. There is great elegance 
in the straight lines of the Oriental dress.” 

“ Let her alone,” said Aunt Gwendolin 
scornfully, “and let the whole city know 

we have introduced the Yellow Per- ” 

14 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“Gwendolin, dear,” interrupted grand- 
mother, “do not speak so.” 

“Those Chinese silks, of which she 
seems to have gowns galore — I was 
at the unpacking of her trunks — must 
be tabooed,” said my aunt. “Her father 
has evidently intended her to dress like 
an European or American; she has some 
waist line, and does not wear the sacque 
the women wear in China; but her 
sleeves are years old.” 

“The dear child may object to having 
her attire changed at once,” said my 
grandmother. “She is used to those 
soft clinging silks, and may not want to 
give them up. And sleeves are of little 
consequence. Let her alone for awhile.” 

“Let her alone!” again retorted Aunt 
Gwendolin, “and let Professor Ballington 
see her? He’d know her nationality at once 
in that yellow silk covered with sprawl- 
15 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


ing dragons, as almost anybody might. 
I cannot have anything so mortifying 
occur when the girl is calling me ‘aunt’!” 

“Ballington is a curious kind of a chap, 
and values people on their own merits; 
he'd think none the less of the girl be- 
cause she has some Chinese blood in 
her,” returned Uncle Theodore. 

“I’ll take her out to-morrow,” con- 
tinued my aunt, “and buy her some 
taffeta silks and French muslins, and 
dress her up as a Christian should be 
dressed.” 

Grandmother said no more. The 
mother is not the head of the house in 
America as she is in dear old China. I 
suppose it is the daughter who rules in 
this country. 

I am so sleepy I cannot listen any 
longer, even to talk about myself. My 
governess has taught me that eaves- 

16 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


dropping is not honourable, but I cannot 
avoid hearing so long as I stay in my 
room, and I have nowhere else to go. 

I will turn out the electric light, throw" 
myself on the bed, yellow silk and all, 
and cry myself asleep. I wonder is that 
an American or a Chinese act? My 
governess was continually tracing my 
actions to one or other of the nations. 

J 

March 2 , i 

It happened this morning! That man 
Aunt Gwendolin thought would be so 
sure to know that I was the Yellow Pearl, 
came to the house, and was ushered into 
my uncle’s den by the maid, a few mo- 
ments after I had been sent in there to 
have the “talk” with him which was 
spoken about the night before. 

“He is a tall man, very, very white,” 
were my thoughts regarding him, as 
17 


THE YELLOW tPE ARL 


he bowed politely before me, when my 
uncle introduced us; and I suppose 
his thoughts regarding me were: “She 
is a short woman, very, very, yellow.” 

He left after a few moments’ conver- 
sation with my uncle; and turning to 
me the latter said, “That gentleman 
who has just gone is professor of ethnol- 
ogy in the State University. He knows 
all about the peculiarities of all the 
peoples and tribes that ever have graced 
or disgraced the face of this planet we 

call the world Has your aunt told 

you that she thinks it better that you 
should say nothing about your Chinese 
ancestry?” he added hastily and awk- 
wardly. 

“Have the Chinese done anything 
disgraceful?” I asked him. 

“No, no, I don’t suppose they really 
have,” he answered with an air of 
18 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


annoyance. “A girl like you cannot 
understand; you had better simply follow 
instructions. I hope it will not be ne- 
cessary to mention this subject again,” 
he added meaningly. 

I could not mistake him; I must not 
dare tell Professor Ballington or any one 
else in this great country that my mother 
was a Chinese woman. 

In the afternoon Aunt Gwendolin took 
me down into the shops of the city, “to 
select an outfit,” she said. 

We stood for hours, it seemed to me, 
over counters laden with silks and mus- 
lins of every colour in the rainbow. Aunt 
Gwendolin held the various shades up 
against my face to see which best be- 
came my “Spanish complexion.” This 
was said, I suppose, for the ears of the 
sales-people, and the fashionable cus- 
tomers standing around. 

19 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


When selections were made among 
the goods, I was taken to the establish- 
ment of a “Parisienne modiste,” where I 
was pinched, puckered, and pulled until I 
was nearly numb. A sort of a steel waist 
was put on me, which my aunt and the 
modiste called a “corset,” and was so 
tightly pulled I could scarcely breathe. 

“I can’t stand it, Aunt Gwendolin,” 
I whisperingly gasped. 

“Yes, you can!” she returned per- 
emptorily, “you’ll get used to it; that’s 
nothing like as tight as the girls all wear 
them in this country.” 

“I can’t breathe,” I gasped again, 
when the modiste had turned her back; 
(Aunt Gwendolin had signed to me the 
first time not to let her hear me). 

“Hush!” said my aunt; “for pity 
sake do not let the modiste know that 
you never had a corset on before.” 

20 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“I’d rather have my feet bound like 

the women do in Chi ” 

Aunt Gwendolin placed her jewelled 
fingers over my mouth before I had 
finished the sentence. 

Just as I was through being “fitted,” 
one of Aunt Gwendolin’s fashionable 
friends came in. “Arabella,” my aunt 
called her, but the modiste called her 
Mrs. Delaney. I was not noticed, and 
slipped off into a corner, and this new- 
comer and my relative fell into a deep 
and absorbing talk about the new style 
of sleeve. I saw my opportunity and 
slipped unnoticed out the front door, 
which fortunately was behind them. 

Hurrying down a few blocks I reached 
a bookseller’s window. With one glance 
I had noticed, when my aunt and I 
were passing the window on the way to 
the establishment of the Parisienne 
21 




THE YELLOW PEARL 


modiste, the word China on the cover of 
a book. “I’ll buy that book,” I had said 
to myself, “ and learn what there is 
about China that makes Americans de- 
spise her people.” 

Entering the store, I found a number 
of books about China and the Chinese: 
“One of China’s Scholars,” “How the 
Chinese Think,” “The Greatest Novels 
of China,” “Chinese Life.” I paid for 
them all and ordered them sent to my 
grandmother’s house. 

The bookseller looked at me very 
curiously for several moments, and then 
ventured, “You speak English very 
well.” 

“Of course I do,” I said, tossing my 
head and trying to act saucily, as my 
governess had told me the American 
girls did. I would not have dared to 
treat a man that way in China. 

22 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


He did not venture to speak again. 
It is funny to be able in this America 
to frighten a man! Confucius says that 
women should “be always modest and 
respectful in demeanour, and prefer 
others to themselves”; but I have not 
to mind Confucius any longer; I am now 
in the “sweet land of liberty,” as they 
sing in their national anthem. I heard 
my father say once that the gentleness 
and modesty of Oriental women was 
really beautiful; but it would not be 
beautiful in America. 

I hurried back to the establishment 
of the Parisienne modiste, and found my 
aunt and her friend still talking about 
sleeves. They had never noticed my 
absence. How very important sleeves 
are in America! I never heard them 
talked about in China. 

The talkers had evidently forgotten 
23 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


me, so I slipped out again, and walked 
several blocks, watching the manners, 
and catching snatches of the conversa- 
tion of Americans. 

“I’m going to have mine eighteen 
gores ” 

“Pleating down the front, frills at 
the side ” 

“Pocahontas hat, and Prince Chap 
suit ” 

“Front panel, and revers turned — ” 

“Frills and pipings all around ” 

“Gored, or cut in one piece ” 

“Oh, pompadour, by all means, 
with ” 

These were the snatches of conversa- 
tion which I caught from the women as 
they passed me. The men were mostly 
silent and glum. 

This curious country, that Aunt Gwen- 
dolin says has gone away ahead of the 
24 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


rest of the world, why do its women talk 
more about dress than anything else? 
And why have its men such pushing, 
hurrying, knock-you-down-if-you-stand- 
in-my-way faces ? 

When I got back to the establishment 
of the Parisienne modiste I found my 
aunt ready to take me to the milliner’s 
to be “outfitted with hats.” 

Walking a block or two we entered a 
much-decorated room, and at my aunt’s 
request an attendant brought several 
hats for our inspection — curious- 
looking things like straw bee-hives, or 
huge wasps’ nests, covered over largely 
with wings and the heads of poor little 
dead birds, ends and loops of ribbon, 
roses and leaves, looking as if they were 
only half sewed on and liable to tumble 
off if touched, and long feathers, buckles, 
and pins. My aunt selected several, 
2S 


i 

socim 

CndocC 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


fitted them on my head, and declared 
they were very becoming to my Spanish 
style of beauty. I, almost in tears, 
whispered into her ear, so the attendant 
would not hear me, “I shall not have 
to wear them where any one can see me, 
shall I?” Aunt Gwendolin smiled (the 
attendant was looking) and replied 
sweetly, “Yes, they are very pretty, 
indeed.” 

We in China could never kill our birds 
and wear them on our heads — the 
breasts of our beautiful mandarin ducks, 
the wings of our gold and silver pheas- 
ants, the heads of our pretty parrakeets 
— we never could do it — we would 
feel like murderers. Our majestic- 
looking wild geese, that fly over our heads 
in flocks sometimes thirty miles in length, 
going south in the autumn and north 
in the spring, we never molest them. 
26 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


The Buddhists believe that all geese 
perform an aerial pilgrimage to the holiest 
of the lakes in the mountains every 
year, transporting the sins of the neigh- 
bourhood, returning to the valley with a 
new stock of inspiration for the people 
in the locality where they choose to 
alight. Here in this civilised country — 
I have been reading in one of their 
magazines that grandmother loaned me 
— they catch the beautiful water-fowls, 
kill them, and hack off their downy breasts 
to make ladies’ hats. And the little young 
birds starve in the nest, because the 



mother never returns to 


Ugh! Civilised countries are dreadful! 

When the hats were selected my aunt 
conducted me to the furrier’s. 

“The cold weather is not over yet,” 
she said, “and while we are about it 
I shall select some necessary furs,” 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


I had noticed as we were passing 
through the streets that the ladies had 
curious looking things around their 
necks and shoulders, capes trimmed 
with heads of animals, and tails and paws 
of the same. I wondered the dogs did 
not bark at them. They looked like 
some hunters who had been out shoot- 
ing and had thrown their dead game 
over their shoulders. 

The furrier whose shop we had entered 
seemed to know my aunt, and as soon 
as she said, “I want you to show me 
some of your best fur garments suitable 
for a young lady,” he brought downfrom 
some shelves the greatest quantity of 
fur articles, ermine, mink, seal, sable, 
all covered with heads, tails, paws, 
claws, 'eyes, mouths, teeth, whiskers. 
I shuddered and drew back when my 
aunt went to place one around my neck. 
28 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“Oh, auntie!” I cried, “don’t touch 
it to me!” 

“Ha, ha, ha,” softly and politely 
laughed the shopkeeper, “the young 
lady has not become acquainted with 
the newest thing in furs, so beautiful 
and realistic — so charming!” 

Aunt 1 Gwendolin frowned. She evi- 
dently did not like my display of nerves, 
and resolutely fastened around my throat 
an ermine scarf with seven or eight heads, 
and twice as many tails. “There!” 
she said, “that will do nicely, it is very 
becoming to her creamy Spanish.” 

“It could not be better,” said the 
polite shopkeeper. 

A muff was then chosen to match the 
scarf, with just as many horrible grin- 
ning heads, and little snaky tails; and 
paying for them, my aunt ordered them 
sent home. 


29 


THE YELLOW PEA\RL 


On my return home I dropped a silver 
coin into the housemaid’s hand, and told 
her when the parcel of books arrived 
she was to carry it up to my room and 
say nothing about it. She seemed to 
understand, and asked no questions. 

An hour later she came to my door 
with the books in her arms, and found 
me examining my new set of furs. 

“Betty,” I cried, throwing wide the 
door of my room, “come in and tell 
me all about my furs — how the man 
that sells them gets all those little heads 
and tails. Where do they get them? 
And how do they catch them? I want 
to know it all.” 

“Oh, miss,” said Betty, stepping 
briskly into the room, nothing loath to 
accept the invitation to examine the 
new furs, “they lives out in the wild 
woods — these little critters, an’ men 
30 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


poisons ’em, an’ traps ’em. An’ when 
they is dead, they skins ’em, tans the 
skins, an’ makes ’em up into muffs, 
an’ boas, an’ tippets, an’ fur coats, 
an’ so forth, an’ so forth.” 

“Poison and trap them!” I cried, 
“doesn’t that make the little creatures 
suffer?” 

“You bet!” said Betty. 

“How cruel!” I added. 

“Yes, miss, ain’t it awful?” returned 
Betty, making a wry face. “They’s a 
book just been throwed in at the door 
to-day telling all as to how it is done. 
The American Humane Association has 
wrote the book — they don’t approve 
of killin’ things. I’ll bring it up an’ 
let you read it.” 

Suiting the action to the thought 
Betty rushed away down to the kitchen 
for the book. 


31 


THE YELLOW' PEARL 


She returned in a few moments with 
a small pamphlet, and thrust it hastily 
into my hand — my aunt was calling 
her — and hastened away. 

I glanced down at a picture on the 
front page — a hare caught by the 
hind leg in a trap. A most agonised 
expression was on the little animal’s 
face. Below the picture was the title 
of the story, “ The Cost of a Skin.” 
I dropped into a rocking-chair and read 
the story: 

“Furs are luxuries, and it cannot be 
said in apology for the wrongs done in 
obtaining them that they are essential 
to human life. Skins and dead birds 
are not half so beautiful as flowers, or 
ribbons, or velvets, or mohair. They 
are popular because they are barbaric. 
They appeal to the vulgarians. Our 
32 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


ideas of art, like our impulses, and like 
human psychology generally, are still 
largely in the savage state of evolution. 
No one but a vulgarian would attempt 
to adorn herself by putting the dead 
bodies of birds on her head, or muffling 
her shoulders in grinning weasels, and 
dangling mink-tails. Indeed, to one who 
sees things as they are, in the full light 
of adult understanding, a woman rigged 
out in such cemeterial appurtenances 
is repulsive. She is a concourse of 
unnecessary funerals; she is about as 
fascinating, about as choice and inge- 
nious in her decorations, as she would 
be, embellished with a necklace of 
human scalps. She should excite pity 
and contempt. She is a pathetic 
example of a being trying to add 
to her charms by high crimes and 
misdemeanours, and succeeding only 
33 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


in advertising her indifference to 
feeling. 

“Of all the accessories gathered from 
every quarter of the earth to garnish 
human vanity, furs are the most expen- 
sive; for in no way does man show such 
complete indifference to the feelings 
of his victims as he does In the fur trade. 

“The most of the skins used for furs 
are obtained by catching their owners 
in traps, and death in such cases comes 
usually at the close of hours, or even days, 
of the most intense suffering and terror. 
The principal device used by professional 
trappers is the steel-trap, the most 
villanous instrument of arrest that was 
ever invented by the human mind. 
It is not an uncommon thing for the 
savage jaws of this monstrous instrument 
to bite off the leg of their would-be 
captive at a single stroke. If the leg 
34 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


is not completely amputated by the snap 
of the terrible steel, it is likely to be so 
deeply cut as to encourage the animal 
to gnaw or twist it off. This latter is the 
common road to escape of many animals. 
Trappers say that on an average one 
animal in every five caught has only 
three legs.” 

“We’d never do it in China — never!” 
I cried, throwing the leaflet from me. It 
is only this horrid, civilised America 
that could be so terribly cruel! I shall 
never wear my furs — never! I shall beg 
grandmother — she seems to be the only 
civilised being I know that has any heart 
— to allow me to go without them!” 

I looked again at my leaflet, which I 
had picked from the floor, and continued 
to read the words of the author: 

“I would rather be an insect — a 

35 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


bee or a butterfly — and float in dim 
dreams among the wild flowers of sum- 
mer than be a man and feel the wrongs 
of this wretched world.” 

I rose from my chair and thrust my 
headed and tailed ermine scarf and muff 
into a box, and pushed them far back 
on the closet shelf. 

“Stay there! Stay there!” I cried. 
“The Yellow Pearl will have nothing 
to do with civilisation!” 

X “Yellow Pearl,” I said to myself, 
> accusingly, half an hour later, “you know 
that they have fur in China, that the 
; rich wear fur-lined garments.” “Yes,” 
I replied to that accusing /, “the rich 
wear fur-lined garments, but they pro- 
cure the fur from animals that have to 
be killed for food, or for man’s self- 
preservation. They are not caught in 
36 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


the cruel steely traps of America. Lin- 
ings, mind you, linings ,” I reiterated, 
“to keep them warm, not the heads, 
tails, paws, claws, eyes, teeth of the 
little animals to bedizen their persons.” 

March Qth, i 

The result of all the pinching, pucker- 
ing, fitting, which I underwent at the 
establishment of the Parisienne modiste 
is that I am walking around arrayed in 
taffeta silk, and squeezed out of all my 
natural shape by the steel waist. My 
sleeves are made so that my shoulders 
appear very much nearer my ears than 
nature intended them to be. My hair 
is done up in a quarter hundred — more 
or less — little puffs, and a quarter 
hundred hairpins are scratching my 
scalp. I have had to lay aside my nice 
soft shoes, and pretty Chinese slippers, 
37 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


and am gyrating around in tight shoes, 
with a French heel somewhere about 
the middle of the sole. I almost fell 
downstairs the first day I wore them; 
and when I wanted to take them off 
my Aunt Gwendolin was indignant. 

“You’ll learn to walk in them soon,” 
she said; “you are in a civilised country 
now, and must do as the people do here. 
You cannot pad around without heels 
any more.” 

I look ugly, and I feel cross. I have 
reached the land of bondage! Oh, for 
my beautiful China silks, thick, soft, 
lustrous, and loose enough to be com- 
fortable — which have been bundled up 
and put in a large cedar chest in the attic. 
Oh, for my own country, my heathen 
China, with its dress thousands of 
years old in fashion ! What frights some 
of the women in this stuck-up country 
38 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


look — in their tight waists, showing 
their figures! That may be pretty 
enough — if really modest, which my 
country denies — when they are young, 
slender, lithe; but fancy a great stout 
woman in a “shirt waist,” as they call 
it, with a belt defining her girth, and 
perhaps a tight skirt making her look 
positively vulgar. Ugh! 

Grandmother has had me in her room; 
indeed, she took me in a couple of days 
after my arrival, and locking the door 
to keep out all intruders, she talked 
long and solemnly to me. She was 
shocked when she learned that I had 
scarcely heard of Christ, and that I 
had never read the Bible. 

“My dear child,” she cried, “what was 
your father thinking about? Why did 
he so neglect your religious educa- 
tion?” 


39 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“He always said that he was going 
to bring me over to you, grandmother, 
to teach me religion,” I replied. “I 
know all about Confucius and Buddha, 
my nurses used to talk about them; but 
they never mentioned Christ.” 

The result of this conversation is, 
that grandmother has me go into her 
room for a half-hour every day to study 
the Bible. We began at the first chapter 
of Genesis, and already we have got as 
far as Abraham. 

Between times I am reading the Chi- 
nese books in my own room upstairs, 
and I learn from one of them that more 
than a century before the birth of Abra- 
ham, China had two great and good 
men; fully as good as Abraham I should 
think, — Yao and Shun — who framed 
laws that govern the nation to-day. 
Why did not Yao and Shun get a “call” 
40 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


as Abraham did? I think they deserved 
one fully as well. 

After we get through our study of 
Genesis and Abraham, grandmother 
usually has a little talk about that great 
and beautiful man, Christ; telling me 
how kind and gentle he was, and how 
he always considered the good of others 
rather than his own good. 

“The Princely Man!” I cried the first 
time she mentioned him. 

She wanted to know what I meant, 
and I told her that my nurses had told 
me about China’s ideal and model, the 
“Princely Man,” and I thought the 
Christ must be he. 

“More, much more than Confucius, 
the Princely Man,” returned my grand- 
mother. “ It is my sincere hope, my dear 
granddaughter, that your mind may 
become illumined as you proceed with 
4i 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


your study, until you understand^ the 
vast difference between the Princely 
Man and Christ.” 

“There is a pretty legend about 
Christ,” she added, “which says that 
as He walked the earth sweet flowers grew 
in the path behind Him. The legend is 
true in a spiritual sense — wherever 
His steps have pressed the earth all these 
centuries, flowers have sprung up, 
flowers of love, kindness, gentleness, 
thoughtfulness.” Then grandmother 
began to sing softly, in the sweetest 
old trembly soprano voice one ever 
heard, asking me to join her: 

“Let every kindred, every tribe 
On this terrestrial ball, 

To Him all majesty ascribe, 

And crown Him Lord of all.” 

March ioth, i 

We went to church this morning, it 
42 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


being Sunday — Aunt Gwendolin, Uncle 
Theodore, and I. Grandmother was 
indisposed and did not go. It was my 
first i attendance at church, for Aunt 
Gwendolin said I had nothing fit to 
wear until she dressed me up. 

“Are you going, Theodore?” I heard 
my aunt, through the opening in the 
floor, say in a surprised tone, as if she 
were not accustomed to seeing him go. 

“I think I’ll go this morning,” re- 
turned my uncle, continuing to brush 
his coat, which act had prompted my 
aunt’s question. “ I want to see how 
our fashionable way of worshipping God 
will impress the little Celestial. It will 
be her first attendance at church.” 

Aunt Gwendolin came up to my room 
and selected the gown I was to wear, 
in fact my whole outfit. She took from 
the wardrobe a white French cloth 
43 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


costume (it was very much in harmony 
with my feelings that I should appear 
in America’s church for the first time 
in the colour which China uses for 
mourning), and one of the beehive hats 
with several birds on it. 

“Oh, I can’t wear that if anybody is 
going to see me,” I cried when she 
brought out the hat. 

“Well, if you are going to make a 
scene,” said my aunt curtly, “wear this” 
and she brought from its bandbox a 
“sailor” covered with white drooping 
ostrich feathers. “You’ll look sweet in 
that,” she added; “and when you get 
more used to civilised head-gear you 
can wear the others.” 

“Do we go to church to look sweet?” 
I inquired. 1 

“Oh, dear, no,” she answered impa- 
tiently, “but there is nothing gained in 
44 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


being a fright — were there no Chris- 
tians in your country to hold meetings?” 

Without waiting for my reply, she 
dived into the closet and brought out 
my fur tippet, but I begged so hard not 
to wear it, that she said as the day was 
mild I need not. 

I’ll have to see grandmother and 
have it disposed of before another church- 
going time. 

Aunt Gwendolin herself was beauti- 
fully dressed in a light blue-gray; at a 
glance she looked like a passing cloud 
dropped down from the sky, but a 
closer inspection revealed a mystery of 
shirrings, tuckings, smockings, frillings 
never seen in a cloud. In reply to my 
questions she had told me the name 
of all the strange puckerings. I’d like 
the cloud-gown better without the 
puckerings. 


45 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“What do we go to church for?” I 
asked as we were being whirled along 
in the automobile, which was controlled 
by a very good-looking young man 
whom they called “Chauffeur.” 

“Why — Why — What a heathen you 
are! To worship God, of course,” said 
my aunt shortly. 

“Does God require us to wear such 
fashionable clothes to worship Him?” 
I asked, feeling wearied with the effort 
of dressing — collars, belts, buckles, pins, 
gloves, corsets, shoes, hats, buttonings, 
and lacings. 

Uncle Theodore laughed, and Aunt 
Gwendolin frowned, and looked care- 
fully round to see whether her white 
taffeta petticoat was touching the ground 
— we were by this time at the church 
and walking from the automobile to 
the church door. 


46 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Following Aunt Gwendolin’s lead, we 
were soon in a front seat. 

We were there but a few moments 
when a number of young men and women, 
dressed in black robes, with white ties 
under their chins, came in through some 
back door behind the gallery where 
they afterwards stood, and began tQ 
sing. 



“Lead me to the Li-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ight, ,J 
sang one young woman, all in a tremble. 


“Lead me to the Li-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ight,” 
sang a man in a heavy voice. 

Then the woman screeched in as high 
notes as her voice could reach, I am sure, 
and the man ran away down to a growl 
• After the whole company had repeated 
“Lead me to the Light,” they began to 
sing against each other, all in a jumble; 
they seemed to finish the song in some 
foreign language. I did not know a 



47 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


word of it. I suppose as it was for the 
worship of God it did not matter whether 
any one else understood it or not. 

After the singing was done, a man — 
the minister they call him — Uncle 
Theodore has since told me — stood up 
before the people and read a verse from 
the Bible — one of the verses I have not 
got to yet in my reading with grand- 
mother. Then he began to talk about 
the hardships of poor missionaries out 
in what he called “the unchristianised 
West of our own country,” and the 
awful need of the natives. It was 
“missionary Sunday;” a bulletin lying 
in the seat acquainted us with the fact, 
and the music and the sermon were to 
be of a missionary character. 

The minister told a story about a 
young man who had gone out as a mis- 
sionary to the Indians, who was living 
48 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


in a shack, twelve by fourteen, cooking 
his own meals, and eating and sleeping 
in the one room. He had not salary 
enough to pay his board. 

When the minister had talked half 
an hour, and had us all wrought up 
about the woes of the missionary, and 
the needs of the heathen, he closed his 
sermon. And we leaned back in our 
seats and were lulled into forgetfulness 
of the grievous story, by low-toned, 
dreamy, soothing music, from the echo 
organ. Aunt Gwendolin has told me 
since that the organ cost seventy thou- 
sand dollars. 

Christians are most extraordinary 
people; they rouse one all up to the pitch 
of being willing to do most anything by a 
heart-rending address, and then scatter 
all the impression by their music. When 
the organist had finished, I wasn’t the 
49 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


least worried about the ills of the mis- 
sionary or the Indians. Indeed all the 
people looked relieved, as if a burden 
had been lifted from them. 

When we were again in the automobile 
Aunt Gwendolin said: “Didn’t the church 
look well this morning? It has been 
undergoing some repairs, and three 
thousand dollars’ worth of cathedral oak 
has been added to the wainscoting.” 

“That would pay the board of the 
young missionary among the Indians 
for a long time,” I said. 

“Hush!” said Aunt Gwendolin im- 
patiently, “do not talk foolishness!” 

Perhaps Uncle Theodore thought she 
shut me up too peremptorily, for he 
said: “Paying that young man’s board 
out in the West would never be noticed 
or talked about, my dear; other de- 
nominations would pay no attention to 
50 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


it, while this cathedral oak wainscoting 
— Oh my ! Oh my ! will excite the admira- 
tion and jealousy of the whole city.” 

“I love beautiful churches,” returned 
my Aunt Gwendolin poutingly. “I shall 
take Pearl around to see St. George’s, 
where the altar cost five thousand dol- 
lars. It will be an education to the girl. 
A man gave it in memory of his wife, 
which was a very beautiful thing to do.” 

“Pooh!” exclaimed my uncle, “why 
didn’t he do something for some poor 
wretches who need it, in memory of 
his wife?” 

While they had been talking I was 
looking at the curious, high-crowned, 
black, shiny hats (a stove-pipe, Uncle 
Theodore has since told me they ought 
to be called) which the men all were 
wearing. They seem to be as essential 
in America as the queue is in China. 

Si 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


In the afternoon grandmother invited 
me into her private room to have a quiet 
talk with her, she said. 

“Everything is very new to you, my 
dear Margaret — Pearl I believe your 
father called you — in this country, 
and you must come to me with all your 
troubling problems. I feel for you, 
my dear grandchild, and do not fear to 
say anything, anything at all you feel 
like saying to me.” 

She took my small yellow hands in 
hers, and looked at me lovingly, saying 
as she gently chafed them that they were 
very pretty and plump. 

There were things puzzling me, had 
puzzled me that very day, and I felt 
inclined to place them before my kind 
granny. 

“What are Christians, grandmother?” 
I asked. 


52 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“My dear child,” said my grand- 
mother, “the word simply means the 
followers of Christ.” 

“Oh, it cannot mean that!” I cried, 
then stopped, abashed. 

Grandmother raised her glasses from 
her eyes, placed them on her forehead, 
and stared at me in a puzzled way for a 
few seconds, then she said: 

“My dear Pearl, why do you say 
that?” 

She was looking at me and I must 
answer, although fearing that I had 
hurt her feelings in some way by my 
abrupt contradiction. 

“You said that the man, Christ, was 
very kind and gentle, and that He always 
thought of the good of others before His 
own,” I continued. “Would He pay 
thousands upon thousands for a grand 
church, in which to sit and be happy, and 
S3 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


feel rich; and thousands upon thousands 
for a great organ to play sweet music 
and make Him forget the world’s sorrows, 
while His brothers were too poor to pay 
for their board ?” 

“No, he would not!” said grandmother, 
tears welling into her blue eyes. 

Jumping from my seat I threw my 
arms around her neck and kissed her 
wrinkled, quivering face, saying, “ You 
are a follower of the Princely Man — of 
the good man, Christ, you are, grand- 
mother ” 

A peremptory rap at the door stopped 
further conversation, and when I opened 
it, a lady was ushered in to see grand- 
mother. 

I was introduced to Mrs. Paton, of 
whom I had before heard my grand- 
mother speak as “a great Christian 
worker,” and whom I heard my Aunt 
54 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Gwendolin denounce as a “tiresome 
crank, spoiling every one’s comfort.” 
I looked very earnestly at the lady, 
trying to fit her into the two definitions. 

Mrs. Paton began almost at once to 
talk about the “ temperance movement,” 
and the “evils of intoxicating liquors,” 
and “the selfishness of the onlooking 
world, who were not the real sufferers.” 

She left after the expiration of half 
an hour, and grandmother said to me: 
“You would not understand Mrs. Paton’s 
remarks, my dear. You will have to 
be longer in the country before you know 
what is meant by the ‘evils of intoxicat- 
ing liquors.’ Did you ever really see a 
drunken man?” 

“No, grandmother,” I said, “I never 
even heard of one. Drunk! — what does 
it mean?” 

“Oh,” said grandmother, “something 
SS 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


that as a country we have reason to be 
terribly ashamed of — men drinking 
intoxicating liquors until they lose their 
senses ” 

Another rap interrupted grandmother, 
and we were called out to tea. The only 
really delightful thing they do in this 
America is to drink tea, just the same as 
we do in China. 

I see how it is; they have a new Con- 
fucius in this America, but they do not 
live the new Confucius — none but my 
dear grandmother. 

March 12th , 1 

It is settled — but not without a fight 
— I do not have to wear the furs with 
heads and tails, and all the rest. To 
please my grandmother, who was so 
afraid I might catch cold, I submitted 
to accepting a plain set, a set which 
56 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


dear grandmother had selected herself. 
Aunt Gwendolin was furious, and fought 
hard that I should be compelled to wear 
the first set, but grandmother over- 
ruled. I see the mother can be the head 
of the house in America when she 
chooses. 

It was the kittens that decided grand- 
mother. One day she and I were out 
for a short walk, and we met a girl with 
two little kittens around her hat — not 
real live kittens, but the skins of two 
little gray and white kittens stuffed 
with cotton batting, and with glass eyes, 
arranged as if meeting and sparring 
around the crown of that girl’s hat. 
“It is barbaric,” said grandmother. 
“There are two kinds of heathen. There 
are the heathen who are born such, 
and there are the heathen by choice. 
And if we look about us we must ac- 
57 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


knowledge we have a great multitude 
of them at home.” It almost made 
grandmother sick, and she decided at 
once that I could get the furs changed. 
“I never seem to have awakened to the 
enormity of it before,” said poor grand- 
mother with a sigh. How glad I am 
that the mother can be the head of the 
house in America when she chooses ! 

A young man whom we all call Cousin 
Ned, because he is a distant relative of 
the family, comes here to grandmother’s 
house very often. He talks incessantly 
about “first base,” “second base,” and 
“third base,” “innings,” and “runs,” 
“pitchers,” and “short-stop,” “out- 
field,” and “infield,” “right-fielder,” 
“centre-fielder,” and “left-fielder,” 
“scores,” and “catchers.” It is all 
Greek to grandmother and me, but we 
can get him to talk about nothing 
' 58 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


else. I asked Uncle Theodore the first 
time I saw this cousin of ours, what 
he was doing — his home is many 
miles away, and he is boarding in the 
city. 

“He is here ostensibly to attend the 
University,” said Uncle Theodore, “but 
Ned is a great sport.” 

As Uncle Theodore was walking away 
he sang lightly: 

“If fame you’re on the lookout for and seek it 
over all 

The words you must engrave upon your mind 
are these: Play Ball!” 

This was rather unusual, for Uncle 
Theodore rarely sings, and I am sure I 
do not know what he meant by it. 

By reason of the relationship, Cousin 
Ned feels free to come to the house 
without ceremony at all hours of the 
day. Most of the time he is wearing a 
59 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“sweater,” with a large letter on the 
breast. 

March 30th, 1 

Aunt Gwendolin decided, soon after 
I came, that I must begin at once to 
take lessons in Spanish. The teachers 
are now visiting the house daily, one to 
teach me the Spanish language, and the 
other to instruct me how to sing Spanish 
songs. Senior de Bobadilla has just been 
here, and I have been screeching away 
for half an hour in a small room where 
my aunt has had a piano placed specially 
for my use. She says she is not going 
to “bring me out” — that means introduce 
me to society, grandmother says; that 
was one of the puzzling questions I car- 
ried to her — until I can sing Spanish 
songs. I see through it all, because of 
the conversation I heard through the 
60 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


floor opening; she thinks by that means 
to convince her society friends that I 
am Spanish instead of Chinese. How 
very funny! 

There was a small dinner-party at this 
house the other evening, but of course 
I could not be at the table. I have not 
“come out.” Grandmother argued for 
my appearing, but Aunt Gwendolin' 
was firm to the contrary, and she won. 
Ancestors are not much regarded in 
America. 

My aunt gave me permission, however, 
to look in on the guests when they were 
seated at the table. She had a large 
mirror fastened to the door, and by 
leaving it open at a particular angle 
I could watch — myself unseen behind 
a curtain — the ceremony of dining as 
practised in America. 

Mercy! those women with bare arms 
61 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


and bare shoulders sitting there before 
the men! How could they help blush- 
ing for themselves! I just gave one 
glance at them, then ran away and hid 
my face! 

Having the evening to myself, I went 
up to my room and enjoyed myself 
reading my Chinese books. My aunt 
said that I was to stay at the curtained 
door, and learn the ways of society by 
watching the manners of the guests 
at dinner; but I saw all I wanted to see 
in one glance. I’d like to carry all 
those women little shawls to put around 
their bare shoulders. Mrs. Delaney’s 
was the barest of them all, but I have 
heard my aunt talk since about how 
“elegantly gowned Mrs. Delaney was.” 

A strange thing happened up in my 
room; I opened one of my books just at 
the page where it tells about the Chinese 
62 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


ambassadors, on the occasion of their 
visits to Christian countries, noticing 
with grave disapproval the decollete 
costumes of the women at the state 
functions. What wonder! — if they 
looked anything like the women at my 
aunt’s dinner party! 

Seiior de Bobadilla says that I am 
making remarkable progress with my 
Spanish songs; he tells grandmother in a 
half-whisper, as if fearing to let me hear 
him, that I am very bright and intelli- 
gent; he congratulated her on having such 
a prodigy for a grandchild. Oh, cunning 
Senor de Bobadilla, you want to continue 
my lessons indefinitely. I am learning 
to quiver and shake, and trill, run up 
the scale, and down the scale, jump from 
a note away down low to a note away up 
high. I’ll soon be able to sing “Lead me 
to the Light,” as well as the church choir. 

63 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


The professor looks very Spanish in 
brown velvet coat, red necktie, shoes 
shining like a looking-glass, a mous- 
tache waxed into long points on each side 
of his top lip, and hair hanging in a 
curling brown mat down to his shoulders. 
Seated at the piano, his thin yellow 
fingers sprawl over the white and black 
ivory keys, while in response to my 
efforts [he keeps ejaculating, “Goot! 
Goot! Excellent! Superb!” 

I, dressed in muslin, cream-coloured 
ground dashed over with wild roses, or 
blue ground with white chrysanthemums 
(the latter is not very becoming to my 
yellow skin) stand at his left hand 
stretching my mouth to the utmost, 
trying to give utterance to the tones 
he is striking on the piano, and trying 
to look Spanish, too. 

Senor de la Prisa is teaching me the 

64 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Spanish language — a lesson every day, 
and I am beginning to jabber the strange 
gibberish like a parrot: “ Es un dia 
bonita. El viento es frio. Se esta 
haciendo tarde. Es temprano .” I’ll 
soon believe myself that I am really 
Spanish, and have never come from 
“the country of yellow gods and green 
dragons,” as Uncle Theodore calls my 
dear native land. 

I have been watching people, reading 
the daily newspapers and my Chinese 
books, and asking grandmother questions 
until I feel very wise. I am almost as 
wise as a real American now. 

Some weeks following Mrs. Paton’s 
Sunday visit to my grandmother, I 
was out for a short walk of pleasure 
when I overtook her. She was pleased 
to meet me again, she said, and we 
walked along together, chatting, at least 

65 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


she talked and I listened, sometimes 
asking questions. 

“Just think of it, my dear,” she said, 
“this is the day on which men are apply- 
ing for licenses to sell poison to kill their 
fellow-men.” 

Then she told me story after story of 
the terrible misery caused by intoxicat- 
ing drinks, and the sin and crime they 
caused people to commit, until I was 
almost in tears. 

A noise of voices and tramping feet 
interrupted her, and there came around 
a corner, marching toward us, a long 
procession of men. 

“Who are they?” I inquired, slipping 
my arm into hers. I had never before 
seen so many men together. 

“Strikers,” she returned sadly. 

“Strikers?” I exclaimed. 

“Yes,” she added, “men who will not 

66 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


work until their employers pay them 
the amount they think they ought to 
be paid.” 

Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! the great 
crowd passed us in long file, dusty, 
worn, hard-worked men. My heart 
swelled as I looked at their strained 
faces; I could not go any farther on my 
walk; I had to rush home to ask grand- 
mother questions. 

“Grandmother!” I cried, panting into 
her room, “strikes in a country that 
follows Christ! — And men asking for 
a license to sell poison to their fellow- 
men!” 

I fell on my knees in front of her chair 
and sobbed, I could not have told 
why. 

She took my face in her soft old 
withered hands, and holding it was 
about to speak, when my Aunt Gwen- 
67 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


dolin, who had overheard me, came into 
the room and cried indignantly: 

“That crank of a Mrs. Paton has 
been talking to the girl; I know her very 
words. That woman should be forcibly 
restrained ! ” 

Grandmother did not answer her, but 
continued to stroke my face until I 
grew quieter, and until my aunt had left 
the room. Then in reply to my many 
pointed questions she told me in brief, 
that the reason men got licenses to 
sell liquor was that they paid money 
for them, and the country granted them 
for the sake of the great revenue they 
brought into its treasury. 

“Oh, grandmother!” I cried, raising 
my head from her lap, “when Britain 
tried to induce the Chinese Emperor 
to legalise the opium traffic because of 
the import duty, he said, ‘Nothing shall 
68 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


induce me to derive a revenue from the 
vice and misery of my people’ ! ” — I 
had read all this in my books on China v 

Grandmother was wiping away tears, 
and I said no more. 

I went up to my own room, and half 
an hour later I heard my Uncle Theodore, 
to whom my grandmother had repeated 
my words, say: 

“ She is preternatu rally sharp. No girl 
of this country thinks of the things she 
does. I suppose they develop younger 
in those Eastern climes.” 

“ It is all new to her,” said my grand- 
mother; “she has just come in upon it 
and sees it with fresh eyes. The girls 
here have grown up with it and become 
used to it by degrees.” 

“Oh, it’s that Oriental blood — half 
witcKUfrair demon — that’s at the bot- 
tom of all her tantrums. The Orientals 
69 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


are all a subtle lot, and we as a country- 
are wise to make them stay at home,” 
said my Aunt Gwendolin. 

April io, I 

Aunt Gwendolin has discovered my 
Chinese books that I had intended to 
keep hidden in my room. She came 
in suddenly one day and found me 
seated in the midst of them. 

“What’s this? What’s this?” she 
cried in great agitation. “How are we 
ever going to get you into the ways of 
Christianised, civilised folk if you keep 
feeding your mind on literature about 
uncivilised people?” And she gathered 
my books up into her arms and carried 
them away. 

I have them all read, however, and she 
cannot carry away the thoughts they 
have left in my mind. What great 
70 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


creatures we human beings are! What 
a world with which no one else can med- 
dle we can carry around in our little 
brains and hearts! It is all the same 
whether they are American or Chinese 
brains or hearts. 

“I see now where she has gotten all 
her smart sayings about the Chinese,” 
my aunt said to my grandmother and 
Uncle Theodore. “How can we ever 
hope to do anything with her when 
she is being poisoned by such stuff as 
is in those books? ‘For ways that are 
dark and tricks that are vain’ commend 
me to the Chinese!” 

“I’ll sicken her of the Chinese,” she 
added: “I’ll bring one into the kitchen 
to cook; then perhaps she’ll feel more 
compunction about acknowledging that 
she is part Celestial. She actually seems 
as if she were proud of the fact now.” 

7i 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Grandmother remonstrated., but my 
aunt replied: “I have always been want- 
ing to try a Chinese cook; they are 
really the world’s cooks and so careful 
and clean, it is said. Then I would like 
to give Pearl enough of it. She will 
not be so fond of claiming kinship with 
the cook.” 

The result of all this was that inside 
of twenty-four hours a Chinaman was 
installed in the kitchen — and the bis- 
cuits are perfect. 

His name is Yee Yick; of course he 
has three names, all Chinamen have; 
but trying to become Americanised they 
use only two in this country. 

My aunt has decided that it is sufficient 
to call him Yick. “The English call 
their servants by their surnames,” was 
all the explanation she made. 

Yick is a dude; he has a suit for almost 
72 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


every day in the week, and is very vain 
of his appearance. His queue is rolled 
up around his head, which is a sign that 
he has not yet abandoned his home 
gods. He is very anxious to learn 
English, and Betty tells me that he has 
a slate hanging up in the kitchen on 
which he is writing English words every 
spare moment. 

I had watched Yick a good deal, but I 
never exchanged a word with him, until 
the event occurred about which I am 
going to write; and I know he never 
dreamed that I could speak his language. 
Poor Yick! if he is “chief cook and 
bottle-washer,” as my aunt says, he is 
my countryman, and I cannot help 
taking an interest in him. 

One day I walked to the end of the 
veranda which runs the whole length 
of the house, and glancing in through 
73 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


the kitchen window as I passed, I saw 
Yick making his tea-biscuits. He had 
the flour and shortening all mixed, and 
raising the bowl of milk which was on 
the table, he took a great mouthful, and 
then began to force it out in a heavy 
spray through his teeth into the dish 
of prepared flour, in the same manner 
as the Chinese laundryman sprinkles 
clothes. 

I wrung my hands, and cried within 
myself, “Oh, Yick, you terrible man! 
You horrible little pigtail!” 

But I slipped back to the front of the 
veranda without making an audible 
sound. How could I tell on poor Yick, 
and bring down such an awful storm on 
his head as would result? He was a 
stranger in a strange land, and it was 
my duty to protect hij B> Was it such 
a very wicked thing he had done? He 
74 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


never killed little birds, anyway, and 
wore them on his head; nor trapped 
cunning little animals, and strung their 
heads and tails around his neck! I 
decided I would not tell on him. 

But that evening at dinner I passed 
the plate of white, flaky biscuits without 
taking any. I sat at grandmother’s 
left hand, and when she was not looking, 
I slipped the biscuit which she had taken 
away from her bread-and-butter plate*, 
and let it slide from my hand down onto 
the floor. Dear, absent-minded grand- 
mother never missed it. Aunt Gwendo- 
lin and Uncle Theodore ate three bis- 
cuits each. 

“It seems to me that Yick keeps 
constantly improving in his biscuits,” 
said my aunt, as she reached for her 
third. 

“They ought to be better than other 

75 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


people at most everything,” returned 
my Uncle Theodore, “they have been 
a long while practising. They may have 
been making biscuits before Moses was 
born. The Chinaman possesses a history 
which dwarfs the little day of modern 
nations. It is a saying of theirs that 
from the time heaven was spread and 
earth was brought into existence China 
can boast a continuous line of great 
men.” 

I looked pleased and smiled. My aunt 
seeing it said, with a toss of her head: 

“A continuous line of great cooks 
and laundrymen.” 

That evening when my aunt and uncle 
were out, and grandmother had gone 
to bed, I slipped down to the kitchen 
and stood face to face with Yick. 

He almost kotowed to me, but com- 
manding him to stand up, I told him in 
76 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


plain Chinese that I had seen him mixing 
the biscuits, and disapproved of his plan. 

His hair almost seemed to stand on 
end when he heard me speaking his 
native tongue. He started to tremble, 
and his knees bent under him. 

“Yee Yick,” I continued, in the lan- 
guage he thoroughly understood, “if you 
ever put the milk in your mouth again, 
and sift it out through your teeth into 
the flour, I shall inform the mistress of 
the house, and you shall be dismissed!” 

Trembling all over Yick began rapidly 
in Chinese to promise that he would 
never, never be guilty of the act again. 
Then, as if scarcely able to believe that 
I could understand his native tongue, 
he repeated his promise in English. 

“No, missee, Yee Yick not putee 
milk in mouth ee! No, missee, Yee 
Yick not putee milk in mouthee!” 

77 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


I assured him in Chinese that I would 
keep the secret of what I had seen on 
condition that he would keep his promise, 
and went out of the kitchen, leaving the 
poor fellow almost in tears. I believe 
he scarcely knows whether to regard me 
as a spirit or a being of flesh and blood, 
it is so hard for him to understand how 
I can speak Chinese. 

The plumbers have closed up the hole 
in the floor, so I shall hear no more about 
the “wily Celestial.” 

April 20th, i 

While I have been waiting to be pre- 
pared to “come out,” I determined to 
walk around the streets and see some 
more of the doings of Americans. Grand- 
mother gave her consent, with a warning 
to keep off certain streets. 

“It is quite safe for a young girl to 
78 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


walk alone in most places in our country, 
thank God,” said dear grandmother 
devoutly, “and I am very willing that 
you should look about you. I remember 
when I was a girl I liked to walk and 
see things, too.” 

But Aunt Gwendolin knocked the 
whole thing in the head — apparently. 

“It is so plebeian for her to go tramping 
through the streets,” she said to my 
grandmother. “Cannot she be satisfied 
to go out every day with us in the 
automobile? The grounds are spacious 
around this place, and she can have all 
the exercise she wants right here.” 

So the question was settled — to all 
appearance. 

A week after my aunt’s fiat I read in 
the daily newspaper that in the “House 
of Jacob,” a certain Jewish synagogue 
downtown, there was conducted on a 
79 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


certain afternoon every week sewing 
classes for young Jewish girls. Instantly 
I decided th£t I wished to visit it, and 
see those “ Children of Abraham,” about 
whom grandmother had been teaching 
me in the Bible, those people who were 
God’s favourites, and I set about laying 
plans to accomplish my desire. 

Happily, when that afternoon came 
around, Aunt Gwendolin went out to a 
Bridge Party — I have not yet found 
out what that means, but I hoped that 
afternoon that she would have a good 
many bridges to cross, so it would keep 
her a long time away — and it was 
Betty’s day out. 

Previous to this I had found in a 
closet a black skirt and shawl formerly 
worn by grandmother, and a bonnet 
which she had laid aside. 

As soon as my aunt had safely de- 
80 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


parted (I had seen Betty go an hour 
before), I hastily threw the heavy black 
satin skirt over mine, draped the black 
embroidered silk shawl around my shoul- 
ders, and tied on the bonnet. With a 
black chiffon veil, which was not very 
transparent, tied over my face, I felt 
very comfortable. It was quite proper 
for an elderly lady to go anywhere she 
wished. 

Grandmother was taking her customary 
afternoon nap, as I slipped down the 
backstairs into the kitchen. Yick, pre- 
paring the flour for his biscuits, saw me 
and started. I could not keep my secret 
from him; I decided to take him into 
my confidence and trust him. 

So lifting my veil, I looked at him 
markedly, and told him rapidly in Chinese 
that he was not to tell any one he had 
seen me. 

81 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


He smiled, winked, and nodded know- 
ingly, assuring me in voluble Chinese 
that he would keep my secret. 

“You no tellee onee me,” he said 
significantly, with grimaces and ges- 
ticulations. 

Going out through the back door, 
and down through a lane at the back 
of the house, I was soon on the street. 

Taking the street-cars — in which 
Aunt Gwendolin thinks it is very plebeian 
to ride — I was soon whirled down in 
front of the “House of Jacob.” 

What a mercy it is, in this curious 
America, that so many people are ple- 
beian and ride in street-cars that they 
do not pay any attention to one another. 
Nobody noticed my grandmotherly 
garb. 

A woman reporter entered the front 
door of the synagogue along with me, 
82 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


and I imagined that I was regarded with 
some deference — grandmother’s old skirt 
and shawl are made of rich material. 

I followed the reporter around the 
room in which the classes were held, 
a few yards in the rear. 

There they were, a hundred or more 
little Jewish children, red-headed, black- 
headed, blonde-headed, and Jewish 
women had them arranged in groups, 
and were teaching them to sew. 

“These little red-heads are typical 
Russian Jews,” I heard the director 
of the ceremonies say to the reporter, 
“only in this country a few months. 
There’s one that has the marked Jewish 
features,” she added, pointing to an- 
other type of child. They are all fond 
of jewellery — an Oriental trait.” 

Dear, dear, I only stayed a short time 
looking at them. They are not much 
83 


THE YELLOW PEARL 



different from others, those people who 
struck rocks and water gushed out, had 
manna and quails rained down on them, 
and walked through a wilderness led by 
a pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of 
fire by night. I have seen hundreds 
of Chinese who looked just as remarkable. 
I cannot understand why God showed 
partiality to Abraham’s children. 

I went out onto the street again, and 
wandered on till I came to what I rec- 
ognized as Chinese quarters. There 
were the laundries of Hoy Jan, Lem 
Tong, Lee Ling, and the shops and 
warehouses of Moy Yen, Man Hing, and 
Cheng Key. The dear names; it did 
me almost as much good to look at them 
as it could to make a visit to my own 
country. 

As I walked down the quiet street, 
a wistful oval face looked down on me 
84 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


from a window. A Chinese woman’s 
face, and the first I had seen since coming 
to America. Stepping into a little shop 
near by, a shop containing preserved 
ginger, curious embroidered screens, 
little ivory elephants and jade ornaments, 
I asked who lived in the house where 
I saw the face at the window, and was 
informed that it was the home of Mr. 
and Mrs. Lee Yet. 

It was drawing near dinner time in my 
grandmother’s house; already I had 
stayed out longer than I had intended: I 
had no time to investigate further re- 
garding Mrs. Yet. 

When I got back to the house I found 
that my aunt had returned before me, but 
fortunately had not noticed my absence. 

When Yick walked into the dining 
room with the steaming plum-pudding 
for our dinner, Aunt Gwendolin said: 

85 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“ Yick, who was that little old woman I 
saw coming up our back lane half an 
hour ago?” 

“Me nevee see no little old womee,” 
returned Yick, with a child-like smile. 

“How stupid those Chinese are,” said 
my aunt, when Yick had left the room. 
‘I certainly saw an old woman, and there 
that creature never saw her!” 

The Creature had helped a young 
woman take off her black bonnet and 
shawl, and escape up the backstairs 
half an hour before. 

I suppose it’s “ that Oriental blood — 
half witch, and half demon ” that’s 
at the bottom of my tantrum of this 
afternoon. 


April 25th , 1 

Mrs. Paton has been in to make an- 
other Sunday visit to grandmother; she 

86 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


is an old friend and privileged to come 
when she chooses — and as before I 
had the privilege of hearing her talk. 

“We are calling ourselves a Christian 
country,” she said to grandmother, 
“and yet we care more for pleasure than 
for anything else. An actress is paid 
more money in one month than a preacher 
of the Gospel is paid in a year. Does 
not that show what the people of our 
country care most for? Going over to 
Christianise the heathen forsooth! We 
are not following Christ ourselves ! What 
an example we set them! How can we 
expect them to think much of our re- 
ligion when they see it has done so little 
for us? 

“Christianity is despised, and rightly 
so. It is called cant, and so it is; going 
around with the Bible under its arm, and 
never obeying its precepts. We want 

87 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


more men overturning the tables of the 
money-changers, and upsetting the com- 
mercialism that is grinding other men 
down to starvation!” 

Dear grandmother was not argumenta- 
tive, and gently assented to all her 
visitor was saying. 

“When this country is really following 
Christ itself,” continued the visitor, 
“we shall see our wealthy men, instead 
of using their wealth to build palaces, 
and to minister to the pride of themselves 
in a thousand forms, choosing to lead 
the simple life, with personal expendi- 
ture cut down to a minimum, and their 
ability to minister to others increased 
to a maximum; in short we will find 
them following in the footsteps of their 
Lord. Man is really the richer as he 
decreases his wants, and increases his 
capacity to help.” 


88 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


When she rose to leave, at the end 
of an hour’s chat, she said very sol- 
emnly to me as she held my hand in a 
farewell clasp: 

“My dear, each man and woman is 
born with an aptitude to do something 
impossible to any other. You have 
an aptitude that the world has no match 
for. It is your aptitude for your own 
peculiar and immediate duty.” 

Oh, how solemn the words look as I 
write them down. What can my duty 
be? I wonder when I am going to find 
out. Aunt Gwendolin thinks it is to 
sing Spanish songs, I know; she firmly 
believes that to be my own peculiar and 
immediate duty. Grandmother thinks 
it is to study the Bible. And Uncle 
Theodore thinks it is to look artistically 
dressed. I have not come to a conclu- 
sion yet as to what I think myself. 

89 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


When I get so terribly lonesome in this 
America that I cannot stand it any longer, 
I get Betty to steal down my yellow 
silk out of the box in the attic, the one 
trimmed with green dragons, and I 
dress up in it, and put on my head the 
pretty embroidered band that the Chinese 
women wear instead of the hideous hats 
of America, and sweep up and down the 
room like a peacock with a spreading 
tail, Betty going into raptures over 
my appearance, sometimes laughing hys- 
terically, and sometimes almost in tears, 
because they have “ no such grand clothes 
in America.” If Aunt Gwendolin hears 
a noise and comes trailing along the hall, 
I jump into bed and cover myself up, yel- 
low silk and all, and Betty proceeds to 
bathe my head for a headache — I really 
have one by that time. 

How many foreigners they have in 
90 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


this great country, Shanghai roosters, 
Turkey hens, Persian cats, Arabian horses. 
I wonder do all those foreign creatures 
feel something calling them back, back 
to their own country? 

Cousin Ned spends most all his time 
at grandmother’s at present. He had 
his arm broken at a baseball game, and 
is carrying it in a sling. 

April 30th, I 

We had the pleasure of Professor 
Ballington’s company at lunch to-day 
— Uncle Theodore had him down in 
his office on some business, and insisted 
on his coming home and lunching with 
him. 

When he and my uncle walked in 
unannounced they found grandmother, 
Aunt Gwendolin, and me in the sitting- 
room. 

9i 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


The professor shook hands with me in 
a very friendly manner; he really seemed 
pleased to see me. Oh, it is awfully 
nice for a girl in a strange land, feeling 
alone and lonesome, to have some one 
glad to see her. He had not spoken 
to me since that morning my uncle in- 
troduced me to him, but he has seen 
me a number of times when I have been 
out in the carriage with my grand- 
mother and aunt. 

He seated himself beside me, and we 
were just beginning to chat pleasantly 
when my Aunt Gwendolin said: 

“You have not heard our little De- 
pendency sing, Professor Ballington?” 

Grandmother’s cheeks flushed, and 
Uncle Theodore looked embarrassed. 

“Pearl, dear,” she added sweetly, 
addressing me, “give us one of your 
stirring Spanish songs before we go to 
92 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


lunch. You can sing better before lunch 
than after.” 

In obedience to the request — which 
I felt to be a command — I went to 
the piano and sang lightly the only 
Spanish song I could sing. 

All the hearers seemed pleased with 
my effort. Professor Ballington looked 
calmly at me, but a smile lay behind 
his blue eyes. What did that smile mean ? 

We immediately sat down to lunch, 
and I was saved the embarrassment of 
having to tell that I could only sing one 
Spanish song. I guess Aunt Gwendolin 
made sure that no such a dilemma should 
occur. 

By some stray remark of Uncle Theo- 
dore’s, the conversation at the table 
turned on what he calls the “Asiatic 
Problem.” 

“Those dreadful Asiatics,” interposed 

93 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Aunt Gwendolin, “so sly and subtle, 
they certainly should be shut out. They 
are a menace to any country.” 

“Above all nations is humanity,” 
smilingly returned Professor Ballington. 

“Especially those inferior people, the 
Chinese,” added my aunt. 

“We can scarcely call the Chinese 
inferior, Miss Morgan,” returned Pro- 
fessor Ballington. (How I wanted to 
give him a hug!) “The Chinaman de- 
spises our day of small things. Like 
the Jew he possesses a great national 
history which dwarfs that of all other 
nations. The golden era of Confucius 
lies back five hundred years before the 
coming of Christ, and the palmy days 
of the Chan dynasty antedate the period 
of David and Solomon.” 

“Oh, yes,” said my aunt curtly, 
“but what has he accomplished in all 
94 


THE YELLOW PEARL 



that time? We regard them as a nation 
of laundrymen.” 

“And they regard us as a nation of 
shopkeepers, and express lofty contempt 
for our greed of gain,” said the professor. 

“The idea!” said my aunt scornfully; 
“the fact is I always feel inclined to 
relegate the yellow-skinned denizens of 
China to the brute kingdom. Think 
of the dreadful things that happen then 
Life itself is of small account to them! 



“One of our own writers,” returned 
the professor, “says, ‘Life is safer in 
Pekin than in New York.’ Another 
writer adds, ‘Chicago beats China for 
official dishonesty!’” 

“It is a nation which for thousands 
of years has set more store by education 
than any other nation under the sun,” 
said Uncle Theodore, “I have been 
reading up about them lately” (that’s 


95 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


because of me) “ and it is perfectly aston- 
ishing, their high ideals. There are 
clearly marked gradations in society, 
and the highest rank is open only to 
highly educated men. First, the scholar; 
because mind is superior to wealth. 
Second, the farmer; because the mind 
cannot act without the body, and the 
body cannot exist without food and 
raiment. Third, the mechanic; because 
next to food and raiment shelter is nec- 
essary. Fourth, the tradesman; men to 
carry on exchange and barter become 
a necessity. And last of all the soldier; 
because his business is to destroy, and 
not to build up society. How does that 
compare with our country which makes 
more of the destroyer than of any other 
citizen? No man in China can rise to 
any position of responsibility except by 
education; money in this country will 
96 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


carry a man into the legislature if he 
cannot write his own name.” 

“Chinese ethics are grand,” added 
the professor. “Listen to the teaching 
of Lao Teh. ‘I would meet good with 
good, but I would also meet evil with 
good, confidence with confidence — dis- 
trust with confidence. Virtue is both 
good and trustful.’ ” 

“There isn’t a doubt that they are a 
wonderful people,” returned Uncle Theo- 
dore. “When our ancestors were wan- 
dering about in sheep-skins and goat- 
skins — if in any other skins but their 
own — China had a civilisation. Wrong 
seems to be not a question of right 
with us, but of might. We do not at- 
tempt to stop people taking chances on 
the stock exchange; taking such chances 
is perfectly legal, but taking chances 
in a lottery is a serious offence. If a 
97 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Chinaman takes chances in a little game 
which he understands, the morals of 
the community are endangered, and the 
poor Celestial must be hurried off to 
jail. We civilised people allow betting 
at a horse-race, and disallow it in other 
places. It is only the uninfluential 
people we send to jail for violation of the 
law.” 

They talked back and forth in an 
animated way for some time. I was 
dying to speak, but did not dare; but 
I am sure that once in the heat of the 
argument, Professor Ballington shot a 
glance across the table at me which 
spoke volumes. The same smile was 
in his eyes that was there when I sang 
for him my one Spanish song. What 
did he mean? Can he guess? Does he 
know that I am not Spanish ? — that I 
am the Yellow Pearl? 

98 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


May 5th, 1 

A very important item has appeared 
in the newspaper to-day — poor Lee 
Yet has fallen into trouble; rather, other 
people are trying to get him into trouble, 
and his wife, the little oval-faced Mrs. 
Yet, has been subpoenaed to appear as 
a witness in his behalf. 

That dear little sad woman to have 
to go to court before all those Americans ! v 1 
“She shall not be studied and laughed 
at as a curiosity. She shall be dressed 
up like an American woman!” I de- 
clared as soon as I read the item. 

In pursuance of my idea this afternoon, 

I a second time donned grandmother’s 
garments — lucky that grandmother and 
I are the same height — and a second 
time left the house unnoticed by any one 
except Yick. 

How very much at home I feel in the 

99 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


garments of an elderly gentlewoman! 
Perhaps I am walking around the world 
the eighteen-year-old reincarnation of 
some dear, silken-clad old granny who in- 
habited this sphere hundreds of years 
ago. 

I quickly found my way down to the 
home of Mrs. Yet, and rapped at the door. 

It was opened by the little woman 
herself, who looked even sadder than 
when I first saw her. I addressed her 
in Chinese and lifting my veil, told her 
that I had come to make her a visit. 
She smiled in a pleased way, opened wide 
the door, and invited me into the house. 
She had never noticed the discrepancy 
between my antiquated dress and young 
face, and was blissfully unconscious that 
my garments were fifty years (more or 
less) out of date. 

On my entrance something small and 

ioo 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


pink moved behind a wire screen in the 
corner of the room, and Mrs. Yet 
clipclapped across the floor in her 
Chinese sandals, and picked up a little 
bundle of Chinese life, saying: 

“This my baby. He eighteen month. 
He sick — get tooth — got one tooth.” 

We talked about the baby, she some- 
times speaking in Chinese, and sometimes 
in broken English, until we felt ac- 
quainted. Then I said: 

“Mrs. Yet, I see by the newspaper 
that you will have to appear in court to 
give evidence in behalf of your husband. 
You do not want to go there in Chinese 
dress to be the subject of curiosity, and 
newspaper remark?” 

The trouble which had left her face 
while she was talking about the baby, 
reappeared, and tears gathered in her 
almond eyes. 


IOI 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


It was more than I could stand, and 
I cried, “Don’t! Don’t! Mrs. Yet — I 
have come to make things all right — 
I, your country-woman — speaking 
your own language. I am going to 
give myself the pleasure of dressing you 
like an American woman.” 

She remonstrated politely but I urged 
so strongly that at last she yielded; 
and it seemed when she did so as if a 
great burden had rolled from off her 
pale little face. 

Immediately I went out to one of the 
great stores and ordered several costumes 
for her to “fit on” — I wasn’t a child 
any longer. Grandmother’s rich old 
skirt and shawl carried weight a second 
time (they could not see my face dis- 
tinctly through the veil), for without 
hesitation a woman was despatched with 
the costumes. 


102 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


This woman expert worked over the 
little Mrs. Yet, pinching, and pulling, 
and puckering, after the manner of 
American dressmakers, until she had 
her resplendent in a rich maroon-coloured 
wool costume, which exactly suited her 
olive skin, and made her almost a 
beauty. 

At last the costume was satisfactorily 
settled and paid for. Oh, it is nice to 
have plenty of money to pay for all one 
wants. Father left me plenty (and 
although I do not control it until I come 
of a certain age, I get a liberal monthly 
instalment). I then went to a milliner’s 
and bought a hat of a shade to harmo- 
nise with the costume. It was trimmed 
with ribbon, and deep, rich, maroon roses, 
and just looked too sweet for anything. 
“Youthful and stylish,” as the milliner 
said. Why not? Mrs. Yet is young, and 
103 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


she has just as good a right to look stylish 
as any American woman! 

Happy? I should say I am! I never 
was happier in my life than I am to- 
night; even if I did steal out in grand- 
mother’s old clothes, and am a “sly, 
subtle Oriental.” 

May ioth, i 

The Court met to-day, and there has 
appeared in the evening papers this notice: 

“A novelty in the shape of a Chinese 
woman witness appeared in the Sessions 
yesterday. Mrs. Lee Yet went into the 
box in behalf of her husband. Her trim 
little figure was becomingly attired in a 
dark-red, tailored costume, and a reddish 
trimmed hat set off to perfection her 
rich Oriental complexion and features, 
beautiful in their national type. She 
gave her evidence without an inter- 
104 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


preter, and did much toward clearing 
her husband of the accusations falsely 
laid against him.” 

Oh, isn’t it delightful to think that I 
have been instrumental in bringing all 
this to a happy issue! I shall carry 
this newspaper down to Mrs. Yet’s 
home, and read to her this pleasing 
paragraph. 

May nth, i 

A “Windfall,” as Uncle Theodore 
calls it, has come to the family; grand- 
mother was quite a “well-to-do” woman 
before, now she is a rich woman. Some 
investments in mines that grandfather 
made years ago have turned out to be 
of marvellous value, and the result is 
that my grandmother, my Uncle Theo- 
dore, my Aunt Gwendolin have greatly 
increased in wealth. 

105 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Aunt Gwendolin wanted to change 
the form of our living at once; she would 
introduce a page and a butler to our 
household staff. But grandmother said 
she was accustomed to a quiet life and 
preferred it. She insists, in spite of 
my aunt’s protests, that a Chinese cook, 
a house-maid, a laundress, a gardener, 
and that lovely chauffeur ought to be 
enough to attend to the wants of four 
people. 

Aunt Gwendolin stormed, and said 
it was so common to live as we did, that 
the English always kept a butler; but 
grandmother was firm. Another ex- 
ample that mothers in America can rule 
in the house if they wish. 

Grandmother seemed a good deal con- 
cerned about this sudden acquisition of 
wealth. “An addition of silver to bell- 
metal does not add to the sweetness 
106 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


of the tone,” she said. “I fear an un- 
due proportion of silver impairs more 
than bells.” 

May 13th, 1 

“BULLS AND BEARS IN A HARD 
STRUGGLE OVER WHEAT.” Uncle 
Theodore read the great headline from 
his evening paper. 

“Wild scenes prevailed to-day at the 
Board of Trade,” he continued, “when 
John Smith began taking in his profits 
on wheat. It is estimated that he 
made a profit of over three hundred 
thousand in less than half an hour. 
Altogether he has cleared more than five 
millions on his wheat deal, and that 
within six months.” 

“Dear me! Dear me!” cried grand- 
mother, “and people dying for want of 
bread!” 


107 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“Well,” returned Uncle Theodore, 
“ Smith is only a highly sensitive product 
of our so-called civilisation; the civilisa- 
tion we are rushing and straining to 
carry to the quiet, unassuming people 
whom we call heathen. They have no 
millionaires, made so at the expense 
of their brothers. When we teach them 
all the graft, lynching, homicide, enor- 
mities of trusts, railroads, new religions, 
and quack remedies, we shall have them 
civilised.” 

“Christianity has to blush for Chris- 
tendom,” sighed grandmother. 

I have been asking grandmother since 
how bulls and bears could struggle over 
wheat; and she tells me that the strag- 
glers are not four-footed beasts at all, 
but men. I see how it is, bulls and 
bears are both cantankerous animals, 
which, if they come in conflict about 
108 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


anything, are sure to have a fight; and 
men who have given evidence of like 
natures have been called after those 
fierce animals. It must be that way. I 
have asked grandmother whether that 
is not the way they came by their names, 
and she said she supposed it must be. 

May 21st, i 

My poor despised people have fallen 
upon hard lines. Lee Yet met with an ac- 
cident on the street and had to be taken 
to the hospital where he must remain for 
weeks, and the day following Mrs. Yet 
was stricken down with diphtheria. 

I was out in the automobile with 
grandmother and Aunt Gwendolin and 
chancing to pass the house of Lee Yet, 
I saw the awful word “Diphtheria.” in 
black letters on a scarlet ground, tacked 
to the door. 


109 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


That night when all his day’s work was 
done I gave Yick a coin and asked him 
to go down and learn who was stricken 
with the disease. 

He came back with the intelligence that 
it was poor little Mrs. Yet, and that there 
was no one waiting on her. 

Fortunately the next afternoon Aunt 
Gwendolin went to “bridge,” and again 
donning grandmother’s garments, I 
slipped out of the house and down to 
the home of Mrs. Yet. 

Meeting the doctor at the door, just 
as he was coming out, I ordered him to 
engage a nurse. 

He looked at me in surprise, but I paid 
in advance for a week’s service, so he 
could do nothing but obey me. 

Opening the door I went into the front 
room of the little home and found the 
Celestial baby fretting away in its 
no 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


cradle just as any other baby would fret 
if left to itself. I began to call it all 
sorts of pet names in Chinese, and the 
little slant-eye cooed and smiled back 
at me as if he really liked it. 

A Chinese neighbour woman came in 
and told me that the baby was to be 
kept in the front room, while its mother 
was quarantined in a room upstairs. 
She further informed me that she came 
in twice a day to feed the baby, and 
the rest of the time he was alone. 

“I have it! I have it!” I cried ex- 
ultingly to my own interior self, “I 
know now my aptitude! I know now 
what I can do that is impossible to any 
other; it surely is impossible to any 
other — in this nation of an hour — 
to jabber the Chinese I can jabber to 
this eighteen months’ old baby! I shall 
come here and take care of him, while 
hi 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


the trained nurse is taking care of the 
mother upstairs. I’ll come for awhile 
every day anyway, and will pay the 
Chinese woman, who cannot leave her 
laundry-minding in the daytime, to 
take care of him at night! He’s just 



as much a dear human baby as any 
purple-and-fine-linen American baby!” 


How fortune favoured me that even- 
ing! Aunt Gwendolin announced that 
she was going in the morning on a 
month’s visit to another city. 

She was not much more than out the 
door the following day when I asked 
grandmother’s permission to go where I 
liked every afternoon of the week. 

Dear grandmother remonstrated a 
little — for fear I might tire myself 
too much — or might go where it was not 
wise to go, etc., etc. But I coaxed, 
and I won the day. 


1 12 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


A strange event happened the very 
first afternoon. Just as I had passed 
through the lane at the rear of the house, 
who should be standing there at the 
back gate but the chauffeur, beside the 
automobile. He knew me despite my 
grandmotherly garb (as I had com- 
menced going to the house of Mrs. 
Yet in grandmother’s black shawl, bon- 
net, and skirt, I thought it better to 
continue doing so), politely touched his 
cap, and said if I had far to go it would 
take him but a few minutes to whirl me 
there in the automobile. 

He is very good looking, and a 
gentleman. Uncle Theodore says he 
is a student who is taking this means 
to earn money further to pursue his 
medical studies. Sometimes Uncle 
Theodore familiarly calls him “Saw- 
bones.” 

113 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Nodding my assent, I entered the car, 
gave my directions, and soon was down 
in front of Mrs. Yet’s small house. 

I lifted the fretting little baby out of 
his cradle as soon as I entered, washed 
and dressed him, he kicking and squirm- 
ing just as I suppose any other baby 
kicks and squirms. All the fear I had 
was that he would roll out of my hands, 
he was such a slippery little eel when 
his body was wet. 

Where did I learn how to wash and 
dress a baby? I must have known 
how by instinct, for I never did it, or 
saw it done before. The Chinese woman 
who keeps the little Oriental at night 
told me the articles that went next the 
skin, and I had no trouble guessing about 
where to put the others. After one or 
two attempts I did it as well as a mother 
of twenty babies. 

“4 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Every day I am being conveyed down 
to my duties in the automobile. The 
chauffeur seemed to divine that I would 
go out every afternoon (perhaps because 
Aunt Gwendolin was away) without 
my telling him, and is always waiting 
at the little rear gate in the back street 
to obey my commands. 

What a delightful time we are hav- 
ing! “When the cat’s away the mice 
can play!” 

Dear grandmother has never seen me 
either leave or return to the house, but 
necessarily Yick and Betty are both into 
the secret. 

“‘For ways that are dark and tricks 
that are vain,’ commend me to the 
Chinese.” 

May 22(1, I 

A most impressive occurrence has 
US 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


transpired, as Mrs. Paton would say. 
Just as I was coming out of Mrs. Yet’s 
house this afternoon who should be 
passing but Professor Ballington! 

I had not yet dropped my black chiffon 
veil, and glancing down from his great 
height of six feet, he looked me full in 
the face. 

At the same instant he saw the word, 
“Diphtheria,” in the great black letters 
on a scarlet ground, and stopping he 
exclaimed : 

“Why, Miss Pearl! This is a surprise! 
Do you know where you are — what 
risk you are running? Diphtheria is 
contagious — very!” 

“I know,” I replied, “but some one has 
to mind a little Chinese baby in there. 
Its father is in the hospital, and its 
mother is shut in a room upstairs with 
diphtheria, and there is no one to stay 
116 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


all afternoon with the baby if I do not. 
He’s a Chinese baby, and of no ac- 
count in America,” I added. (I came 
within one of telling him that I was the 
only one who could call him pet names 
in the language he could understand; 
wouldn’t Aunt Gwendolin have taken a 
fit?) “ I just had to come,” I pleaded, 
seeing his look of disapproval. “Each 
man and woman is born with an aptitude 
to do something impossible to any other, 
an aptitude that the world has no match 
for, Mrs. Paton says; and I have just 
found out that my aptitude, impossible 
to any other, is to mind this Chinese 
baby; no one else can match me in this!” 

He looked less severe, almost kind, 
and half as if he could scarcely keep 
from laughing. Then he said, “ Have you 
disinfectants ? They are very necessary.” 

I shook my head, and he said: 

117 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“ Come with me to a drug store and 
I will supply you with a stock.” 

And I, decked in my grandmother’s 
cast-off clothes, walked along the street, 
and into the “Palace Drug Store” with 
the elegantly dressed and caned professor. 

He didn’t seem the least ashamed of 
me; indeed, he was so polite that I for- 
got for the moment that my dress was 
anything odd — forgot it until I saw 
a young man clerk looking at me in an 
amused way ; then I dropped my thick veil. 

The professor insisted on my taking a 
certain kind of lozenge to hold in my 
mouth while I was in the infected house, 
and ordered quantities and quantities 
of disinfectants carried there, giving me 
instruction as to how they should be 
used. 

When we were walking back to the 
house of Mrs. Yet, the professor re- 

118 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


marked that the Chinese were a people 
worth studying. 

“Have you heard any of their poetry, 
Miss Pearl ?” he questioned. And be- 
fore I had time to reply — perhaps he 
thought he had no right to make me 
give an answer to that question, he 
is a “great philologist” — he continued: 
“Could anything be more exquisite than 
those lines to a plum blossom? 

“ ‘One flower hath in itself the charms of two; 
Draw nearer! and she breaks to wonders new; 
And you would call her beauty of the rose — 

She, too, is folded in a fleece of snows; 

And you might call her pale — she doth display 
The blush of dawn beneath the eye of day, 

The lips of her the wine cup hath caressed. 

The form of her that from some vision blest 
Starts with the rose of sleep still glowing bright 
Through limbs that ranged the dreamlands of 
the night; 

The pencil falters and the song is naught, 

Her beauty, like the sun, dispels my thought.* 

“A certain collection of Chinese 
lyrics,” he continued, “‘A Lute of Jade,’ 
moved a London journal to observe that, 
119 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


the more we look into Chinese nature as 
revealed by this book of songs, the more 
we are convinced that our fathers were 
right in speaking of man’s brotherhood. 
Here’s another to a calycanthus flower: 

“ ‘Robed in pale yellow gown, she leans apart, 
Guarding her secret trust inviolate; 

With mouth that, scarce unclosed, but faintly 
breathes. 

Its fragrance, like a tender grief, remains 
Half-told, half-treasured still. See how she drops 
From delicate stem; while her close petals keep 
Their shy demeanour. Think not that the fear 
Of great cold winds can hinder her from .bloom, 
Who hides the rarest wonders of the spring 
To vie with all the flowers of Kiang Nan.’ 

“This is Wang Seng-Ju’s tiny poem,” 
he added, “I presume a great many 
people in this greatly enlightened Amer- 
ica never ascribe any sentiment to th® 
Chinaman: 

“ ‘High o’er the hill the moon barque steers, 

The lantern lights depart, 

Dead springs are stirring in my heart, 

And there are tears; 

But that which makes my grief more deep 
Is that you know not that I weep.*” 

120 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


The moon had appeared in all her full- 
orbed glory, although it was early twi- 
light, and the professor looked at me so 
earnestly while quoting those words 
that I actually believe I blushed. 

“‘There yet is man — 

Man, the divinest of all things, whose heart 
Hath known the shipwreck of a thousand hopes, 
Who bears a hundred wrinkled tragedies 
Upon the parchment of his brow.’ 

“Ou-Yang Hein penned those lines,” 
he added, raising his hat in adieu. But 
before we parted I made him promise 
to write out for me the Chinese verses 
he had quoted; and it is his beautifully 
written lines I have copied. I am going 
to learn them off by heart. How I 
would love to recite them at one of Aunt 
Gwendolin’s “ Drawing-rooms ! ” 

The professor had gone but a few 
paces when he returned to inquire what 
hospital poor Lee Yet was in, saying 
121 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


that he would go around and see how 
he was faring. 

“This is such a very selfish world,” 
he added, as if half to himself, “I some- 
times fear those poor foreigners that 
come to our shores get woefully treated.” 

That was lovely of him! After all, 
men are brothers under their skin. 
That was what their great man, Christ, 
taught — that all men are brothers; he 
did not except the Chinese, as some 
Americans want to do. 



June ?th, i 

Almost as soon as Mrs. Yet was 
pronounced well, and was allowed to 
go among people again and before Mr. 
Yet had left the hospital, Baby Yet 
fell seriously ill — his teeth. 

He grew worse, and worse. Yick told 
me about it one day in a few concise 


122 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Chinese words, which he snatched an 
opportunity to drop to me in passing 
through the dining room. The wily 
Celestial seems to understand, without 
being told, that no one is to know that 
he and I can exchange thoughts in our 
native tongue. 

That afternoon I stole out again, and 
went down to the little Yet home. It 
was just as Yick had said, the baby was 
very ill. 

He lay on his little pallet, white and 
still, almost unconscious, and his mother 
stood over him wringing her hands, and 
shedding bitter tears. 

“Oh, my baby! My baby! He die and 
leave me! My heart break!” she cried in 
Chinese when she saw me. “Precious 
treasure! Precious treasure! ” she con- 
tinued, bending toward the almost in- 
animate form on the pallet. 

123 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


The latter is the almost universal 
term of endearment in China, and no 
American mother ever agonised more 
bitterly than did that Chinese mother 
over that atom of herself lying before her. 

I had to do something to comfort her, 
so I began to tell her about heaven. 
/, who was not sure that I could get 
to that blessed place myself (stealing 
out on the sly in a grandmother’s clothes 
is not a very heavenly trick), said that 
whoever missed it, babies would be there. 

“Will Chinese babies be there? 
They do not want them in America,” 
she asked rapidly and tremblingly in 
Chinese. 

“Certainly,” I replied; and at that 
moment I seemed to have a vision of 
all the babies of this wide world that had 
died — black babies, brown babies, yel- 
low babies, red babies (probably the 
124 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


colour of their skin was only the earth 
garb) ; I saw the whole throng, for grand- 
mother had read to me from the Bible 
that of such was the kingdom of heaven. 

“His tooth not bother him there?” 
she added. 

“No,” I returned, “there shall be no 
more pain there.” 

“He like it,” she continued, almost 
smiling through her tears. 

Then she grew very, very still, and a 
glow stole over her yellow face which 
made it beautiful. 

I stepped nearer, put my arm around 
her, and kissed her on the cheek. 

She looked at me in a startled way, 
then drawing a tiny handkerchief from 
her bosom, she carefully wiped the spot 
on her cheek where my lips had touched. 
The practice of kissing is unknown in 
China. 

125 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


On the way home, when but a few 
yards from the house of Mrs. Yet, I 
met Professor Ballington again, and told 
him the story about the sick baby. 

He asked me to go back with him, 
and take him in to see it, which I 
did. He looked scrutinisingly at the 
little hard pallet on which the baby 
lay; and what did that dear man do 
but go out to one of the great stores 
not far away, and buy the prettiest 
little cot, and the softest and best 
mattress that could be found in the 
market, and order them sent home 
without delay to that little yellow 
baby. 

Was it the soft mattress that did it? 
I do not know; but almost immediately 
the baby seemed to rest easier, and by 
degrees came back to life and strength. 

Oh, this would be a glorious country 
126 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


to live in! — if the people were all like 
Professor Ballington. 

June ioth, i 

I made my first visit to the thea- 
tre. Aunt Gwendolin said I should 
not go until I came out, but Uncle 
Theodore said he would take me him- 
self, and defy all fashions and for- 
malities. 

“ I enjoy seeing the little girl absorbing 
our civilisation,” he said to grandmother; 
“sometimes I fancy it seems rather un- 
civilised to her.” 

Grandmother demurred a good deal; 
she said she did not know but I would 
be quite as well, or better, if I never went 
near a theatre. But Uncle Theodore 
said that was an old-fashioned idea that 
grandmother held to because of her 
Puritan ancestry; that it was generally 
127 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


conceded now that the theatre is a 
great educator, the greatest educator 
of the people extant to-day. 

“There is going to be a world-renowned 
actress to-night, a star of first magnitude 
in the theatrical world,” he added, 
“and I want my niece to have the ad- 
vantage of hearing her.” 

I dressed my very prettiest for the 
occasion. Uncle Theodore always has 
an eye for the artistic in dress. I donned 
soft silks, soft ribbons, and soft feathers. 
It is one of my uncle’s ideas that women 
should be softly clad; he absolutely hates 
anything hard, stiff, or masculine- 
looking on a woman. 

When we entered the theatre the 
orchestra was playing most ravishing 
music. I could have stayed there all 
night and listened to it without tiring, 
I believe. It must be the American half 
128 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


of me that is the music-lover, for the 
Chinese are not very musical. 

The boxes were full of wonderfully 
well-dressed men and women. How 
beautiful women can look in this great 
country, dressed in every colour of the 
rainbow! Men are of less account in 
America; but they looked well enough, 
too, in black coats and white shirt- 
bosoms. 

After awhile the heavenly music 
stopped, the curtain on the stage rolled 
up, and the play began. 

At first it was entrancing, magnifi- 
cent — the stage-furnishings, gorgeously 
dressed women, clever-looking men, all 
acting a part — a lovely world without 
anything to mar it, right there in that 
small space of the stage before our eyes. 

Then a woman, the star actress, came 
in wearing a very decollete gown (I 
129 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


am getting hardened to them now), and 
began to talk in a manner I never had 
imagined people in good society would 
talk — right before those hundreds of 
men and women. I’ll not write it down; 
I do not wish to remember it. But the 
party of women on the stage, instead of 
being shocked or ashamed, all laughed 
little, rippling, merry laughs. My cheeks 
burned, and I did not dare to look at 
anybody, not even Uncle Theodore. 

After that I could not like the theatre 
any more and drawing away within my- 
self, I looked and listened as if the 
actors had been hundreds of miles from 
me. 

When the play was over and we were 
on the way home Uncle Theodore said: 
“ If I had known the nature of the play, 
I would not have taken you to-night, 
Pearl.” 


130 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“But /,” I cried, “/ am only one! 
There were hundreds of people being 
educated as well as //” 

Uncle Theodore turned and looked at 
me quickly; then he said coldly: 

“My dear, you have a great deal yet 
to learn.” 

When we reached home I went at 
once upstairs to my room, and Uncle 
Theodore retired to his den. 

Neither of us has ever mentioned 
the subject since. 

Cousin Ned is around morning, noon, 
and night now. He is walking with a 
crutch, having had his shin kicked at 
a foot-ball match. 

June 20th , i 

I went with grandmother to-day on her 
weekly visit to the “Home for Incurable 
Children.” Grandmother goes to carry 
131 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


her presents, and “to cheer up the little 
folk,” she says; I went prompted by 
curiosity. 

We were ushered in by a cheery, 
wholesome-looking maid who knew 
grandmother, and gave her the freedom 
of the house. 

We first entered the ward where the 
older children were kept, and there 
grandmother distributed her books and 
pictures. 

While she sat to rest I wandered from 
one cot to another, where white little 
faces looked up at me, pleasantly an- 
swering my questions, or volunteering 
information. 

“I am a new patient,” one midget 
said, with a placid air of importance. 

“I’m goin’ to have an operation to- 
morrow,” said another exultingly. 

“That’s one blessed fact about 

132 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


children,” said the attending nurse, “they 
never fret in anticipation. They look 
forward with positive pride to a new 
experience — even if it is an operation.” 

In one bright room three boys were 
playing a game of number-cards, one 
a hunchback, another with crippled 
lower limbs, and a third, seated on 
a long high bench, handling the cards 
with his toes, his arms and hands being 
useless. 

The top part of the foot of the socks 
belonging to this last lad had been cut 
off, and he was picking the cards off 
the table with his bare toes; passing 
them from foot to foot, and replacing 
a certain card on the table, quite as 
expertly as another boy might do it with 
his fingers. 

I walked into another room to see 
the little babies; blind, crooked-limbed, 
133 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


distorted, never going to be able to use 
their bodies properly. 

“Why does God leave them here?” 
I demanded of grandmother as soon as 
pwe had reached the open air again. 

“Perhaps,” said grandmother quietly, 

| “ to give us the blessed privilege of act- 
} ing the God toward them. 

“Christianity meansbrotherhood, Pearl, 
dear,” she added, after we had walked 
several yards in silence. 

What a great country this America 
is! Caring for its ailing and crippled in 
such a beautiful way! 

“Oh, China!” I cried, when I was all 
alone in my own room, “ you would 
drown your blind, crooked-limbed, dis- 
torted babies, or throw them out on 
the hillsides to die! Oh, China! China! 
would you could come over here and 
see how America treats her ‘weak and 
134 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


wounded, sick and sore?’ These are the 
words of a church hymn.” 

I said something to this effect the same 
evening to grandmother, and she replied: 

“Perhaps, my dear, it may be the duty 
of some of us to carry America to China.” 

Seaside, July 31st, 1 

We are at the seaside. It is the 
fashion in America for whole families 
to shut up their houses in hot weather 
and go off to some summer resort — 
the women of them — whether to be 
cool, or to be in the fashion I do not 
yet know. Grandmother wanted to go 
one place, Aunt Gwendolin to another, 
and Uncle Theodore, who said he might 
run over for a few Sundays, to yet 
another. At last a charming spot upon 
the Atlantic coast was decided upon. 
Uncle Theodore settled the question 
135 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


emphatically, because dear grandmother 
needed the revivifying influence of the 
sea air. 

Aunt Gwendolin fretted a little at 
first for fear it might be humdrum, 
and commonplace, and for fear none of 
“our set” would be there; but she re- 
covered from her depression when she 
heard that Mrs. Delaney, Mrs. Deforest, 
Mrs. Austin, and others of the same 
clique had also chosen that particular 
part of the coast as their recuperating 
place. 

Mrs. Delaney dropped in one day to 
tell her that the whole fashionable tide 
had turned toward that coast this 
summer, and she knew we should have 
a “simply grand season.” 

Aunt Gwendolin’s spirits rose after 
that, and she immediately went about 
ordering a most elaborate summer ward- 
136 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


robe — morning gowns, evening gowns, 
walking suits, yachting suits, bathing suits. 

Uncle Theodore went ahead of the rest 
of the party and engaged a suite of rooms 
in the most fashionable hotel on the 
Beach, from the broad balconies of 
which the view of the sea is grand, and 
the air delicious. 

Grandmother and I spend much time 
together. As I am not “out” Aunt 
Gwendolin says that I cannot attend 
any of the functions to which she is 
going daily — and nightly. I do not 
know what I miss by being obliged to 
stay away from the parties and balls, 
but I know it is very delightful wander- 
ing on the beach with grandmother, watch- 
ing the lights, shades, and colours on 
the water, the dipping and skimming 
of the water birds, the movements of 
the lobster fishers, the going out and 
137 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


coming in of the tide, and all the many, 
many objects of interest around the great 
sea world; never caring whether I am 
fashionable or not fashionable, whether 
anybody is noticing me or not noticing 
me. 

The only objects that I do not like 
to look at on this sea beach are the 
human bathers. The sea-gulls taking 
their bath are graceful, but, oh! those 
grown-up women in skirts up to their 
knees, and bare arms, wandering over 
the beach like great ostriches! They 
mar the picture of beauty which the 
earth and sky and sea unite to make, 
and I would shut them up if I had the 
power — or add more length to their 
bathing suits. 

Perhaps the sea-gulls would not look 
graceful either if they had half their 
feathers off. 


138 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


We were here a week when Professor 
Ballington came. We were all a little 
surprised to see him because he is not a 
“ society man,” as Aunt Gwendolin says. 
He does not appear to care much for 
“functions,” and spends much time 
wandering on the beach. Grandmother 
and I meet him frequently. 

One time when I went out for a little 
run before breakfast I found him staring 
at the great green sea that kept rest- 
lessly licking the sand at his feet. He 
looked lonesome, and I tried to say some- 
thing to cheer him up. Then he asked 
permission to join me in my stroll, and 
we had a most delightful time, finding 
shells, and stones, the formations of 
various periods of time, Professor Bal- 
lington said. He seems to know every- 
thing. I do not wonder he cares so 
little for society, or the company of 
139 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


women in general. Strange how much 
more the men, the cultured men, the 
society men, of America know than the 
women! I suppose it is because the 
women have to spend so much time talk- 
ing about the change of sleeves. 

There was a dance one night in the ball- 
room, which is around at the opposite 
side of the house from our apartments, 
and leaving grandmother absorbed in 
her book, I slipped around on the balcony 
and peeped through the slats of the 
closed shutters on the dancers within. 

All was in a whirl, and there I saw, 
with my own two eyes, men with their 
arms around the waists of women, whirl- 
ing those same women around the great 
room in time to music played by an 
orchestra. It made me dizzy to look 
at them. 

“Wouldn’t that shock China!” I cried. 
140 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“Shall / have to submit to that when 
I come out? Oh, why cannot I always 
stay in?” 

I was so excited I did not know I was 
talking aloud, until the voice of Pro- 
fessor Ballington over my head said: 

“You do not like the thought of com- 
ing out into society? You would like 
always to stay in domestic retirement?” 

“Yes, yes,” I said; “what can save 
me from coming out?” 

“Marry some good man,” he said, 
“and spend your energies making a 
quiet, happy home for him.” 

He was looking at me in a very peculiar 
way, and I felt frightened, I don’t know 
why, and skipped along the balcony 
back to grandmother’s sitting-room. 

When I entered who should be there 
talking to grandmother but Mrs. Paton. 
She said she had felt lonesome without 
141 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


grandmother in the city, and had made 
up her mind to spend a week at the sea- 
side. 

“Oh, grandmother!” I cried, as soon 
as I had greeted Mrs. Paton, “shall I 
have to come out? Cannot I always 
stay in?” 

Grandmother clasped my hand in 
hers, in the old way she had of quiet- 
ing me, and explained to Mrs. Paton 
that I did not incline to the ways of 
society people, and had a dread of 
entering the world which Aunt Gwen- 
dolin loved so well. 

“Give your life to some noble cause, 
my dear,” said Mrs. Paton earnestly, 
turning her eyes upon me. “The world 
is in sore need of consecrated women. 
You could be a foreign missionary, or 
a home missionary. Oh, don’t waste 
your life on the frivolity called Society!” 

142 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


This is not Professor Ballington’s ad- 
vice. Which is right? How glad I 
am that in this “land of the free.” I 
am not compelled to follow any will but 
my own ! 

August Seaside. 

Well, I did get a surprise last evening 
while out strolling on the beach, for 
whom should I meet but “Sawbones,” 
otherwise Chauffeur Graham. He is 
having summer holidays now, and before 
settling down to some work to make 
money for his autumn college expenses, 
he snatched a day to get a whiff of 
sea air, he said. 

He seemed very pleased to see me, 
and I was delighted to see him, and 
extended my hand to him in cordial 
greeting. 

I know Aunt Gwendolin would object 
143 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


to her niece shaking hands with the 
chauffeur — it was the medical man 
I shook hands with. 

I stayed out there as long as I dared, 
and we had a lovely stroll along the 
beach in the moonlight, the waves whis- 
pering at our feet as we walked and 
talked. Chauffeur Graham said that 
it always seemed to him that the waves 
were coming from the many far-off 
lands with their incessant pleadings that 
we carry our enlightenment and advan- 
tages to the suffering places of the 
earth. 

That was the medical man speaking 
in him. He must be noble or he 
would never hear those voices in the 
waves. 

How I wish it were proper for me to 
give him some of the money I do not 
know what to do with, so that he 
144 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


could go on with his studies and not 
need to work between times to earn a 
pittance. 

Grandmother says she is going to 
engage him again in the autumn, when 
we all return to the city; she knows him 
now, and feels safe in his hands, he is 
so careful. 

“It is such a nuisance to have a man 
that you cannot command at any hour 
of the day — or night,” said Aunt 
Gwendolin. “Make him understand, if 
you engage him again, that all his 
time belongs to us. These gentlemen 
chauffeurs who are straining after a 
university education are unendurable!” 

“He shall have whatever time he 
wants for his studies or examinations. 
It is the least I can do to show my 
sympathy with his life work,” returned 
my grandmother. 


145 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Another Stroll. 

I had another stroll this evening on 
the beach with Chauffeur Graham — 
while Aunt Gwendolin was getting ready 
for the dance — and he told me some- 
thing. 

“When I am through with my medical 
course,” he said, “I intend to go to 
China to practise what I have learned.” 

I stopped suddenly in my walk and 
\ faced him. “Why are you going to 
j China?” I demanded. 

It makes me indignant to have this 
nation, an infant in years, patronising 
j my hoary-headed Empire! 

“If a man is going to do his duty by 
the world,” he returned, “he will go 
where his work is most needed. They 
have no native medical school in 
China. 

“They are a great people,” he added 
146 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


after a short pause, “likely to be in the 
van of the world’s march in the ages 
to come; and I want to have a hand in 
getting them ready. Napoleon said, 
‘When China moves she will move the 
world.’ All the broken legs will be 
set in this country whether I am here to 
set them or not; I want to go where they 
will not be set unless I do it.” 

“ Go where the vineyard demandeth 
Vinedresser’s nurture and care.” 

I repeated the lines which I had heard 
them sing in the church. 

“That’s about the way it is,” he re- 
turned, looking at me in pleased surprise. 

He left this morning on an early train, 
to go back to the peg and grind, and now 
the place is slow and lonesome. After 
all I think it is better to have to peg and 
grind; it surely must be the spice of life 
which rich people miss. I do not care 
147 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


how quickly the hot months pass, and 
we can go back to the city again. 

Sept. 30th, 1 

We are all back in the city again, and 
settled into the old routine; but there is 
a new excitement in the air. Aunt 
Gwendolin insists that I require to go 
to some fashionable “Young Ladies’ 
Boarding School,” to be “ finished .” She 
says (but not in grandmother’s hearing) 
that I do not talk as I should, that my 
voice is quite ordinary, and I must learn 
the tone of society ladies before I can 
be brought out. 

“You mean the artificial tone?” said 
Uncle Theodore, who was present when 
I was getting my lecture. 

“Call it what you like, Theodore,” 
snapped Aunt Gwendolin, “it is the tone 
used by an American society woman; 

148 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


the girl talks yet in the natural voice 
of a child.” 

“Would that she could always keep 
it,” returned Uncle Theodore. 

After much talking my aunt persuaded 
my grandmother that I should go to 
some such school. 

“My dear,” said grandmother timidly, 
“your aunt seems to think you may gain 
much by a period spent in some good 
school. She may be right. It certainly 
cannot hurt you, and if it can be of any 
benefit there is nothing to prevent your 
having it.” 

To comfort dear grandmother I raised 
no objection, and it is settled that I go 
in the fall term. The choice of a school 
was left entirely to Aunt Gwendolin, 
and she has decided upon the most 
expensive and most fashionable one in 
the country. She has been corresponding 
149 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


with the lady principal; my rooms have 
been ordered; and everything is com- 
plete. 

One day my aunt placed in my hand one 
of her monogrammed sheets of writing- 
paper, pointing to the following paragraph : 

“It is the family’s wish that much 
attention be given to preparing the 
young girl whom I am sending to you, 
for Society; heavy or arduous work in 
any other line is of secondary consider- 
ation. The prestige of your school could 
not fail to be enhanced by the presence 
of a Spanish girl of good family.” 

“ I am not a Spanish girl, Aunt Gwen- 
dolin!” I said. 

“I did not say you were,” returned 
my aunt, “I simply said the prestige 
of her school could not fail to be en- 
hanced by the presence of one.” 

, Have I got to live up to that? 

IS o 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Boarding School, October, ioth i 

I am here at last, accompanied by 
two large leather trunks, which Aunt 
Gwendolin has filled with all sorts of 
costumes, for all sorts of occasions. 

A page opened the door in response 
to the hackman’s ring, when after some 
hours’ journey by rail, I arrived at the 
fashionable “Boarding School,” and a 
maid conducted me up a flight of softly 
carpeted steps to my appointed rooms. 

I had not more than taken off my 
wraps, when Madam Demill (she has 
declared that her name should be spelled 
De Mille, but it has become corrupted 
in this democratic America) the head of 
the establishment, called upon me. She 
was cold, hard, stately; a creature of 
whalebone and steel as to body, and of 
pompadours and artificial braids as to 
head. 

I5i 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


She announced after her first greeting 
that there was going to be a party that 
evening, and she wished me to be dressed 
in evening costume, and appear in the 
drawing-room at half past eight o’clock. 

“If you would wear some of your 
distinctly Spanish costumes it would be 
very apropos,” she added. “I see you 
have the decided Spanish complexion. 
I am glad you are pronounced in your 
nationality; it is so much more interest- 
ing. As you did not arrive in time for 
dinner, a tray shall be brought to your 
room with sufficient refreshment to keep 
you in good feature until you partake 
of the refreshment offered at the party,” 
she added as she swept from the room. 

How helpless I felt ! I was to dress in 
evening costume for the “party.” What 
was I to put on ? For the first time in my 
life I wished that Aunt Gwendolin were 
152 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


near me. How I longed for my yellow 
silk gown that my governess in China 
had designed with flowing sleeves trim- 
med with “sprawling dragons!” I knew 
I looked better in that than in anything 
else, and I knew how to put it on; no 
infinitesimal hooks and eyes, pins and 
buttons, to be found, and put in exact 
places; which if one fails to do in the 
American gown the whole thing goes 
awry. 

My worry was dispelled by the arrival 
of the maid with the promised tray. 
It was not too heavily laden to prevent 
me from completely emptying it, with 
the exception of the dishes. 

While I was eating the maid unpacked 
my trunks, — you have not got to do 
much for yourself in a fashionable board- 
ing school — hanging the articles in an 
adjoining clothes closet. During the 
153 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


same period of time a happy thought 
occurred to me. 

“I will call Aunt Gwendolin over 
the long distance telephone and ask her 
what I shall wear at the party to-night!” 
was the happy inspiration. 

In response to my request the maid 
conducted me to the telephone, and 
when the connection was made, I 
called : 

“Hello, Aunt Gwendolin! This is the 
Yellow Pearl speaking!” 

“How does that little minx know 
that she is the yellow peril?” I heard 
my aunt say, probably to Uncle Theo- 
dore in the room beside her. Then 
she turned to me and replied: 

“Well.” 

“What gown shall I wear to-night at 
the party?” 

Back over the two hundred miles of 

154 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


field, forest, lake, came Aunt Gwendolin’s 
thin, squeaky voice: 

“Wear your cream-coloured Oriental 
lace.” 

“Does it fasten in the front or back? 
If in the back I cannot put it on myself!” 
I returned, over the fields and trees and 
waters. 

“Yes, you can, get some of the girls 
to fasten it for you,” cried the voice 
through the phone. “Be sure and wear 
that; it so emphasises your Spanish 
style of beau ” 

I hung up the receiver. 

At my request the maid helped me to 
get into the cream Oriental lace; and 
at half past eight I made my appearance 
in the drawing-room, as to dress, looking 
like a Spanish grande dame, and as to 
face, looking as yellow, and lonesome, 
and sour as the fiercest Spanish brigand. 
I5S 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


I was introduced to Mr. This-One, and 
Mr. That-One and Mr. The-Other-One. 
They all looked alike to me, with high 
collars, and patent-leather shoes. After 
awhile there was a little dance, but as I 
did not know how I had to sit [against 
the wall, and Madam Demill said I 
must be put under a dancing master at 
once. 

The day following, in the afternoon 
(all the so-called lessons are gone through 
in the forenoon, and we have nothing 
to do but amuse ourselves the rest 
of the day) a number of the girls came 
to call on me in my apartments. There 
were a dozen or more of them present 
when an arrogant-looking one, with her 
hair arranged in an immense pompadour 
over her forehead, from ear to ear, 
drawled through her nose. 

“ I suppose you do not love Americans 
156 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


since we beat your country at the battle 
of Manila ? ” 

“No,” I said truthfully, “I do not 
love Americans.” (Of course I mentally 
excepted grandmother, Professor Bal- 
lington, Chauffeur Graham — and Uncle 
Theodore when he acts nice.) 

The girls threw their chins into the 
air, their eyes shot fire, and I heard 
several faint sniffs. 

Then a slim, golden-haired, blue-eyed 
girl stepped out from the group, and 
coming quickly to my side, she put her 
arm around me and said: 

“We’ll make her love us!” and she 
actually touched her rosebud lips to my 
yellow cheek. 

Since that I have not hated Americans 
quite so savagely. 

The act seemed to have a softening 
effect on the others, too, for from that 
157 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


time they all have treated me very 
decently, even the girl with the pompa- 
dour. 

Golden Hair seems to have a great deal 
of influence in the school. There are 
some nice girls in America. 

Oct. 15th, 1 

Life in this “Fashionable Boarding 
School” is just about a repetition, daily, 
of what transpired the evening of my 
arrival. It is not worth recording, so 
I am closing up my diary until I return 
to grandmother’s. It takes Yick, and 
Mrs. Yet, and Chauffeur Graham, and 
Professor Ballington, and even a pinch 
of Aunt Gwendolin to give a little spice 
to life. 

Thanksgiving 

I took a run back to grandmother’s 
158 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


for what those Americans call Thanks- 
giving — It is most amusing to foreigners 
like me — and Yick. 

On grandmother’s table there was 
what they tell me is the regulation 
dinner for the day — roast turkey and 
pumpkin pie. 

When Yick, in his best costume, had 
walked proudly into the dining room 
with the immense turkey on a platter, ( 
and deposited it on the table, he returned 
to the kitchen convulsed with laughter, i 
Betty has told me since. 

“Christians queer people! Christians 
queer people!” he sputtered merrily, j 
“Thank God eat turkey, thank God eat 
turkey!” 

I knew what Yick meant, the Oriental 
idea of thanking God would have been 
some act of self-denial. It was hard for 
the poor “heathen Chinee” to construe 
159 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


the American self-indulgence into an 
act of thanksgiving. Poor Yick, and 
poor Yellow Pearl! How far both of you 
are from comprehending civilisation. 

Holidays , Dec. 20th, 1 

I am back again at grandmother’s 
for the holidays. Grandmother and 
Uncle Theodore seemed so glad to see 
me that I am beginning to feel quite 
as if this were home. Yick and Betty 
are still here, Chauffeur Graham still 
manipulates the automobile. 

Mrs. Delaney gave a “little Christmas 
dance,” as she calls it, last night, and 
the description has come out in the 
morning paper: 

“The home of Mrs. Delaney was 
transformed into a bower of flowers, 
ferns and softly shaded lights, on the 
night of her Christmas dance. The 
160 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


hall and staircase were decorated with 
Southern smilax entwined with white 
flowers, and the dressing-rooms with 
mauve orchids; while in the drawing- 
room the mantelpiece was banked with 
Richmond roses and maidenhair ferns, 
and that in the dining room with lily- 
of-the-valley and single daffodils. Pass- 
ing through the dining room, where an 
orchestra was stationed behind a screen 
of bamboo, twined with flowers, the 
guests entered the Japanese tea pavilion, 
which had been erected for the occasion. 
The entrance was formed of bamboo 
trellis work covered with Southern smilax, 
flowers, and innumerable tiny electric 
lights. The walls were covered with 
fluted yellow silk, and from the ceiling 
depended dozens of baskets filled with 
flowers interspersed with Japanese lan- 
terns and parasols. Huge bouquets of 
161 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


chrysanthemums were fastened against 
the wall. The table was exquisitely 
decorated with enormous baskets of 
flowers; in the centre was one with large 
mauve orchids over which was tilted 
a large pink Japanese umbrella, trimmed 
with violets, while from each basket 
sprang bamboo wands suspended from 
which were Japanese lanterns filled with 
lily-of-the-valley and violets, the whole 
forming the most beautiful scheme of 
decoration seen this season.” 

How tired I am writing it all! I 
wonder if any one felt tired looking at it. 

Then followed a description of the 
ladies’ gowns: 

“The ladies were simply stunning 
in their smartest gowns, Mrs. Delaney 
queening it in an exquisite apple-green 
satin, with pearls and diamonds; Miss 
Morgan (which means my respected 
162 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


aunt), whose sparkling blonde beauty 
always charms her friends, in maize 
chiffon, through which sparkled a gold- 
sequined bodice and underskirt, and Mrs. 
Deforest, dark and graceful, in a rich 
white satin gown. Mrs. Austin looked 
extremely handsome in a most becoming 
orchid gown, with ribbon of the same 
shade twisted in her dark hair.” 

There was a lot more of the same, but 
my hand refuses to write it. One would 
think it was a number of half-grown 
children the newspaper reporter was 
trying to please by saying nice things 
about them. Strange that in this Amei 
ica nothing is ever said about wha 
the women say or do at those socia 
functions; nothing seems worth noticing 
about them but the kind of clothes they 
have on. The men do not count for 
anything at all. 



163 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


I wonder was Professor Ballington 
there. I wonder did he look at any one 
with that smile away back in his eyes 
which was there when he looked at me 
the time I sang my one Spanish song. 

December 2ist, i 

Yick has given us a new diversion. 
Aunt Gwendolin gave him orders to 
make a particularly nice layer-cake for an 
afternoon “tea.” 

Yick is quite proud of his cakes, and 
this day he wished to outdo anything 
he had previously done, so he made a 
layer cake, icing it with red and white 
trimmings. He delights to get a new 
recipe, or find some new way of decora- 
tion. The daily paper, which always 
in the end finds its way into the kitchen, 
had evidently attracted his attention. 
He saw in the advertisement pages a 
164 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


round box with an inscription on top. 
Taking the box for a cake, he decorated 
his culinary effort in imitation of the 
picture. Aunt Gwendolin never saw it 
until it was carried in to the table, before 
all the finest ladies of the city, and this 
was what they all read, in three rows of 
red letters across the white icing: 

Dodd’s 

Kidney 

Pills 

Who says my people are not clever 
and original? 

Dec. 23d . , 1 

It is drawing near the festive season 
in this remarkable land, and there is a 
great bustle everywhere. Some people 
are concerned about providing luxuries 
for themselves, and some are concerned 

165 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


about providing for those poorer than 
themselves. 

Mrs. Delaney came in all fagged out 
from her arduous work of shopping. 

“I have just been treating myself to 
a few little Christmas presents,” she 
gasped, as she carried a great, fat, pug 
dog and deposited him on grandmother’s 
best white satin sofa pillow. She called 
the dog many endearing names, such 
as “darling,” “little baby boy,” “sweet 
’ (Kpne,” and “tootsy-wootsy.” 

Dogs are thought as much of as babies 
in America; those are the very same 
terms of endearment that the women 
address to their babies. 

“I had to leave this little darling in a 
restaurant to be fed and cared for while 
I did my shopping,” she explained. 
“He would come with me, the pet.” 

She then informed Aunt Gwendolin 
166 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


that she had been to the milliner’s and 
ordered five hats, and had just completed 
the purchase of a three thousand dollar 
jacket at the furrier’s. 

The dog on the pillow whined in the 
midst of her recital, and she stopped 
long enough to go over and give him a kiss. 

She was still enlarging on the beauty 
of the fur coat, when the housemaid 
tapped on the door, and ushered Mrs. 
Paton into the sitting-room. 

“I heard that you ladies were here,” 
she said, “and I thought you might like 
to have the privilege of helping a little 
in those charities,” and she began to 
unfold some papers which she held in 
her hand. 

“Oh, my dear Mrs. Paton, do not ask 
me to-day, really ,” exclaimed Mrs. De- 
laney, holding up her hands. “I am 
among the poor myself to-day, and you 
167 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


know charity begins at home. I really 
haven’t a cent to give to any one else. 
I’m stony broke, as the boys say. I 
have laid out so much money to-day 
for necessities!” 

Mrs. Paton then turned to my aunt 
and said, “Gwendolin, do give something 
out of the thousands you are expending 
on self-indulgence to help those who 
have not the necessities of life!” 

Taking the paper into her hand with 
an ungracious air, my aunt wrote down 
a certain amount, and then passed it 
back. 

“Dear me!” sighed Mrs. Delaney, 
as soon as Mrs. Paton had left the place, 
“how tired I get of those people with their 
solicitations for some Y. M. C. A., or 
Y. W. C. A., or something else eternally. 
They’d keep a person poor if one paid 
any heed to them, really! Some one 
1 68 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


starving or unclothed every time! It does 
annoy me so to hear harrowing tales!” 

January 1st, i 

Last night there was a sound of revelry 
in this great land. At the solemn hour 
of midnight, when the old year was 
dying, and the new year was just being 
born, one class of people in this American 
city rushed out into the open streets, 
cheering, blowing horns, ringing bells, 
and making all possible noises on all 
sorts of musical instruments. Another 
class celebrated the birth of the new 
year by eating an elaborate meal. This 
is what appeared in the morning paper 
regarding the latter: 

“One million dollars was spent last 
night in this city celebrating the birth 
of another year. More than twenty- 
five thousand persons engaged tables 
169 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


at from three to ten dollars a plate in 
the leading hotels and cafes.” 

How fond of eating Americans are! 

This is the first time I have seen the 
birth of a new year in any but my native 
land, and my mind goes back to the 
celebration on a similar occasion in China. 
It is a solemn event there. For weeks 
the people are preparing for it; houses 
are cleaned, and debts are paid, for a 
Chinaman, if he has any self-respect, 
will be sure to pay his debts before the 
new year. 

I told this to Uncle Theodore a few 
days ago, and he said, “ I wish that Amer- 
icans would rise to that state of grace.” 

Nobody goes to bed that night, but 
all sit up waiting for the first hour of 
the new year, when the father of the 
home, his wife and children all worship 
170 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


before the spirit tablets of their ances- 
tors, and then at the shrine of the house- 
hold gods. 

Then the door is opened, and the whole 
family with the servants go outside and 
bow down to a certain part of the heavens, 
and so worship heaven and earth, and 
receive the spirit of gladness and good 
fortune, which they say comes from that 
quarter. 

At the same hour, when the old year 
is dying, China’s Emperor, as High 
Priest of his people, goes in state to 
worship. Kneeling alone under the 
silent stars he renders homage to the 
Superior Powers. He on his imperial 
throne makes the third in the great 
Trinity, Heaven, Earth, and Man. 
Should there come a famine or pestilence, 
upon him rests the blame, and he must 
by sacrifice and prayer atone for the im- 
171 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


perfections of which heaven has seen 
him guilty. 

Oh, China! I would prefer kneeling 
with you under the silent stars on New 
Year’s eve, to feasting at the groaning 
tables, or ringing the bells and blowing 
the horns of this great, civilised, noisy 
America! 

January yth, I 

Oh, glorious! Grandmother says I 
need not go back to boarding school 
for the winter term; she says the family 
always go South during the cold weather, 
and she wants me to go with them. 
Wants me, think of it, wants me. Isn’t 
it nice to have somebody want one along 
with her! I believe grandmother really 
loves me. Aunt Gwendolin doesn’t; she 
wanted me sent back to school. She 
said I would never be fit to be brought 
172 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


out with that kind of carrying on. I 
love those that love me, but as for loving 
those that hate me, as grandmother had 
been teaching me from the Bible, I 
haven’t come to that yet. 

That reminds me, I wish Aunt Gwen- 
dolin would stop snapping at Yick; I 
am afraid some day he will kill himself 
on the doorstep, so his ghost may haunt 
her the rest of her life. But I think he 
likes grandmother and the other mem- 
bers of the family sufficiently well to 
cause him to refrain from that act of 
Chinese revenge. 

Mexico, February ist, i 

A great migratory movement has taken 
place in our family — we are now in the 
warm, sunny country called Mexico. 

Aunt Gwendolin was the cause of it. 
She said she was tired of going to Florida, 
173 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


that it was so common to go there now, 
everybody was going there, that the 
latest thing was to winter in Mexico, 
and she thought we all ought to follow 
suit. She talked and argued so much 
about it that she persuaded grandmother 
and Uncle Theodore to her way of think- 
ing, and after travelling hundreds of 
miles in Pullman and sleeper cars, here 
we are in this land of cactus fences, 
tortillas, great snakes, and parrots ; this 
land where roses and strawberries grow 
all the year round; where in some parts 
are luscious tropical fruits, flowers, and 
palms. 

Mrs. Delaney has come along with us, 
and Professor Ballington says he may 
join our party later. There are many 
Americans around us in the various 
towns — it is so fashionable at present 
to winter in Mexico. 

174 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Uncle Theodore takes me out for long 
walks with him in this land of perpetual 
summer, and we see many strange and 
interesting sights. The rich are so very 
rich, and the poor are so very poor. 
There is one drawback — we had to 
leave behind us our automobile. Of 
course we can hire one here, but we can 
not have our own lovely chauffeur, and 
grandmother says she is afraid to trust 
any of those Mexicans. I suppose our 
poor chauffeur is pegging away hard over 
his medical lore now, while I am lounging 
around doing nothing. The grand- 
daughter of a millionairess, with money 
to get anything I want, and yet I am 
Beginning to think there is nothing worth 
getting. It is lovely to be poor like the 
chauffeur and have to work hard for 
something. My life is so small and 
worthless that I am oppressed with it. 
175 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


One of the sights that interest us the 
most when we are out in the country 
are the cactus hedges. There are great 
palisades of the organ-cactus lining 
the railways, and there are ragged, loose- 
jointed varieties used for corralling cattle. 
Great plantations of a species of cactus 
called maguey with stiff, prickly leaves 
a dull, bluish-green, are seen in abund- 
ance. From this plant the Mexicans 
get not only thread, pins, and needles, 
but pulque, the juice or sap of the plant, 
which they ferment and make into a 
national beverage. Pulque is used by 
the Mexicans as whisky is used by 
Americans, and opium by Chinamen. 

Great fields of maize are cultivated, 
of which there are two or three crops 
a year. The food of the people is 
tortillas, made out of this maize mashed 
into a paste and baked into flat cakes. 
176 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


I ate those tortillas when I first came, 
as a curiosity, a native production, but I 
am not going to eat any more. While 
Uncle Theodore and I were watching a 
woman making them, great drops of 
perspiration fell from her brow into the 
paste. She pounded away, poor tired 
creature, and paid no heed to the drops. 
Poor women of Mexico, they have to 
work so hard, preparing the paste, and 
making those little cakes to be eaten 
hot at every meal! But no more tor- 
tillas for me. 

We visited the old churches which 
are beautifully decorated with veined 
marble and alabaster. Precious stones 
seem to grow in this remarkable 
land. 

“Keep your eyes open, Pearl,” said 
my uncle, “and you may pick up some 
opals, or amethysts. They grow in this 

177 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


country, and I have heard they can be 
had for the picking.” 

Mexico, February 12th, 1 

I have made a discovery — I have 
found out America’s Princely Man ! It is 
Abraham Lincoln, and this is his 
Birthday! 

Magazines have been coming down 
from the North telling us all about this 
Princely Man, and I have asked grand- 
mother and Uncle Theodore hundreds 
of questions, it seems to me, about him. 
And I can see that they never get tired 
answering those questions, but seem 
as if they could talk about him for- 
ever. 

Scarcely a political debate occurs, 
either in Congress or in the Press of the 
country, but the possible views or actual 
example of Abraham Lincoln are quoted 
178 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


as the strongest argument, Uncle Theo- 
dore says. 

The magazines find it impossible to 
publish too much about him. Mention 
of his name in an incidental fashion from 
a stageor forum draws a burst of cheering; 
or if the reference is of a humorous nature 
the laughter is close to tears. 

“With love and reverence his memory 
is cherished by the American people 
as is the memory of no other man,” 
said dear grandmother. “Quoting a 
‘Decoration Day’ orator,” she added, 
“‘He was called to go by the sorrowful 
way, bearing the awful burden of his 
people’s woe, the cry of the uncomforted 
in his ears, the bitterness of their pas- 
sion on his heart. Misunderstood, mis- 
judged, he was the most solitary of men. 
He had to tread the wine-press alone, 
and of the people none went with him. 
179 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


But he turned not back. He never 
faltered. As one upheld, sustained by 
the Unseen Hand, he set his face stead- 
fastly, undaunted, unafraid, until in 
Death’s black minute he paid glad 
life’s arrears: the slaves free! Himself 
immortal!’” 

Yes, it is quite certain that Abraham 
Lincoln is America’s Princely Man! 

I would like to make something happen 
in the world that would be talked 
about after I am dead. Grandmother 
says that it is only something that one 
does for the good of the world that is 
remembered after he is dead. “If a 
man has money, people will lionize him 
as long as he is living for the sake of 
it,” she says, “but money counts for 
nothing when a man is dead.” 

“Money!” said Uncle Theodore, who 
had been listening to our talk. “I doubt 
180 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


whether Abe ever owned enough to buy 
a farm.” 

February 15th , 1 

One comfort, I am not bothered much 
with Aunt Gwendolin — she has be- 
come acquainted with a French noble- 
man, Count de Pensier, and he is at- 
tracting all her attention, thanks be to 
goodness! Mrs. Delaney is delighted, 
and is doing all she can to further the 
acquaintance. “ It is not every day that 
one has the privilege of associating daily 
and hourly with one of the titled aristoc- 
racy of the old world,” she has said 
several times in my hearing. 

When we first arrived Aunt Gwendolin 
saw some of the Spanish ladies wearing 
mantillas on their heads, and she imme- 
diately bought one for me. 

“There!” she said when I put it on, 
181 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“isn’t that simply perfect? Doesn’t that 
make her Spanish through and through?” 
She says that when I become a thorough 
Spanish-American she is going to give a 
“coming out party” for me. 

The scarf is really quite becoming. 
Uncle Theodore admired it, or admired 
me with it on, so I wear it wound around 
my head when I go on my rambles 
through the country with him. I really 
much prefer it to the bristling hats of 
the American women, and it is quite 
pleasant to be called “senorita,” and 
to be thought Spanish. 

These long head scarfs are also worn 
by the poor women, but theirs are made 
of cotton. On the street they carry 
their babies strapped to their backs 
with it, the little heads and legs bobbing 
up and down until one would think 
they might snap off. Sometimes the 
182 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


scarf ties the baby to the mother’s 
bosom, thus leaving her hands free for 
other work. 

“Our American sensibilities” (quot- 
ing Aunt Gwendolin) “are sometimes 
shocked by Mexican doings.” 

One day we saw a procession headed 
by the father carrying a tiny coffin on his 
head. Behind him walked the mother 
dragging by the hand a little bare-foot 
girl, of two or three; and behind them 
again trotted a dog. The father was 
drunk, and staggered as he walked. 

As we watched the little procession 
on the way to the graveyard they passed 
in front of a saloon where they sold 
pulque. The father wanted another 
drink, so he started to enter the saloon 
taking the little coffin under his arm. 
He stumbled on the threshold, and the 
little pine box fell out of his hands down 

183 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


onto the flag-stones, the cover coming 
off. And we saw a little dead baby 
within the coffin, with a crown of gilt 
paper on its head, and a cross of gilt 
paper on its brow. In its little hands 
were a bunch of flowers. The man 
laughed awkwardly, put the lid on the 
coffin and placed it on his head again, 
proceeding toward the graveyard with- 
out his drink, followed by the mother, 
the girl, and the dog. 

“Why do not the American mission- 
aries who are crossing oceans to find 
heathen, look for them at their own door- 
step?” said Uncle Theodore afterwards, 
when he was telling the story to grand- 
mother. 

“Sure enough,” returned grandmother, 
“it does look as if the unenlightened of 
its own continent is America’s first 
duty.” 


184 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Aunt Gwendolin is having moonlight 
walks and talks innumerable with 
Count de Pensier — and — oh, I am 
having LIBERTY! 

February 21st, 1 

We have had some unusual excitement 
lately — a bull and tiger fight. The 
day following, the description came out 
in a morning paper: 

“A fight between a Tiagua bull and a 
Bengal tiger in the bull ring this after- 
noon was most ferocious, and will result 
in the death of both animals. The 
sickening spectacle was witnessed by 
5,500 people, largely Americans, and 
many of them tourists, who stopped 
over here especially to witness the bar- 
baric spectacle. After three bulls had 
been despatched in the regulation 

185 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


manner, the star performance was pulled 
off. The two animals, enclosed in an 
iron cage, about thirty feet square, were 
brought together, and the battle between 
the enraged brutes commenced. The 
bull was first taken into the enclosure 
and given the usual bull fight tortures 
to arouse his ire, and then the iron cage 
containing the tiger was wheeled up to 
the entrance; but the tiger refused to 
get out and open the battle, and the bull 
attempted to get into the small cage and 
get at his adversary. The bull was 
badly scratched about the face. Finally 
the tiger came from his cage, and the bull 
gored the cat with a long, sharp horn as 
he emerged. With a screech of pain, 
the cat, with a powerful lunge, broke the 
bull’s right leg, and then the two animals 
went into the fight for their lives. The 
tiger was able to spring out of the way 
1 86 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


of the bull in a number of instances, 
but when the big, heavy animal caught 
his adversary it went hard with the 
tiger. The bull stepped upon the tiger 
in one instance and there was a crunch- 
ing of ribs audible in the seats of the 
amphitheatre. 

“The bull disabled the tiger in the 
back, and after that the fighting was 
tame, and the Americans cried for pity, 
while the Mexicans cheered and wanted 
the performance to continue.” 

Mrs. Delaney, and Aunt Gwendolin, 
along with Uncle Theodore and Count 
de Pensier, attended the fight. Grand- 
mother would not go, and I stayed 
with her. 

“A Christian lady going to a bull 
fight,” I said to grandmother under my 
breath. 


187 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“Yes, my dear,” returned grand- 
mother looking really pale, “it shocks 
me quite as much as you. It was not so 
when I was young. American v^omen 
of the present day must see everything. 
It is deplorable!” 

When the scene was the most harrow- 
ing, and the Americans were calling 
for the fight to be stopped, Aunt Gwen- 
dolin, and I believe several other Ameri- 
can women, fainted, and had to be 
carried out. 

“Dear me, dear me,” said grandmother 
again, when she heard the harrowing 
details. “That is just the way with Ameri- 
cans of the present day; they must see 
everything. It was not so when I was 
young.” 

Who should walk into our presence 
at that very moment but Professor 
Ballington. He had heard grand- 
188 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


mother’s remark, without knowing the 
cause for her words, and as he was shak- 
ing hands with us he said: 

“You believe the poet Watson diag- 
nosed Uncle Sam’s case when he said: 


“ ‘But when Fate 

Was at thy making, and endowed thy soul 
With many gifts and costly, she forgot 
To mix with those a genius for repose; 
And therefore a sting is ever in thy blood, 
And in thy marrow a sublime unrest . 9 99 


“It was not so when I was young,” 
said grandmother. “How can we lay 
the shortcoming at the door of Fate?” 

“Chinese women would never attend 
a bull and tiger fight, grandmother,” 
I whispered into her ear when the pro- 
fessor was looking the other way, “nor 
Chinese gentlemen.” 

“I hope not, my dear,” is all the reply 
dear grandmother made. 

189 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


Professor Ballington only stayed with 
us a day or two; he was just on a tour, 
he said, and had to cover a certain 
amount of space within a certain period 
of time. Grandmother and I were very 
desirous that he should remain longer; 
but I really believe Aunt Gwendolin 
felt relieved when he was gone. She 
did not appear to feel comfortable with 
his comprehending eyes upon her when 
she was entertaining Count de Pensier. 

February 28th , 1 

The Count has proposed to my Aunt 
Gwendolin, and she has accepted him. 
Grandmother is in tears ever since, and 
Uncle Theodore is furious. I heard the 
latter talking to my grandmother — 
in his excitement he seemed to forget 
my presence — and he said : 

“That Frenchman is just a fortune- 
190 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


hunter, one of those penniless, titled 
gentry that swarm in Europe. He wants 
Gwendolin’s money to regild a tarnished 
title, and Gwendolin wants the title! 
He has found out from Arabella Delaney 
the size of Gwendolin’s fortune, in pos- 
session and in prospective, and he has 
offered his title in exchange for it! 
That’s the size of the whole affair!” 

“That’s what grieves me most,” said 
grandmother, with quivering lips; “it 
is not holy matrimony.” 

“I look, for a divorce within five 
years!” continued my uncle. 

“I had always hoped that Gwendolin 
and Professor Ballington would make 
up some time,” added grandmother. 

“Oh, Gwendolin would never suit 
Ballington,” returned Uncle Theodore. 
“Your granddaughter — the little Celestial 
— is the making of a woman much more 
191 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


to his taste — ” He looked up suddenly, 
and seemed to remember for the first 
time that I was in the room. 

I, sly, subtle Oriental that I am, 
worked away on my shadow embroidery 
and never by the wink of an eyelid, 
or the movement of a muscle showed 
that I heard a word. 

April jjth, i 

We are home again, and all is bustle 
and confusion — Aunt Gwendolin is going 
to be married. She pays no attention 
to me now at all; and you know, dear 
diary, how that grieves me. Dress- 
makers, milliners, caterers, florists, deco- 
rators, throng the house. Count de 
Pensier is staying in a hotel downtown. 
He calls every forenoon, and every 
afternoon; and declares, with his 
hand on his heart, that he cannot 
192 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


return to his own country without his 
bride. 

Cousin Ned has asked me to marry 
him. He is down in his luck, and blue — 
missed in his examinations — and he 
says he believes he might settle 
down and do something if he were 
only married. He says the relation- 
ship is so far out that there is nothing 
to hinder him and me from being 
married. 

Get married, indeed! There’s nothing 
farther from my thoughts. 

May 25th, 1 

Well the fuss and flurry are all over 
— they are married, Aunt Gwen- 
dolin and Count de Pensier. I can- 
not do better than copy a paragraph 
out of the newspaper to describe the 
doings: 


193 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


“The church was beautifully deco- 
rated with azaleas, palms, orchids; tall 
white wands supporting sheaves of palms 
stood at each aisle. The walls of the 
church were festooned with green wreath- 
ing. The bride was given away by her 
brother, Theodore Morgan, Esq. She 
looked exceedingly handsome in an 
exquisite gown of heavy, ivory-white 
satin, with panel of filet lace, seeded 
with pearls. The long train was 
trimmed with lace and pearl seed- 
ing. With this was worn a costly 
lace veil, caught to her Titian hair 
with a chaplet of orange blossoms, and 
she carried a shower bouquet of 
Bridal roses. 

“The six bridesmaids were gowned in 
ivory taffeta silk, wearing picture hats; 
and each carried an immense bouquet 
of Bride’ s-maid’s roses.” 

194 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


As is usual at American functions, the 
men did not seem to be of enough im- 
portance to mention anything more than 
their bare names. 

It all took place in Christ’s Church. 
Was He there? Grandmother says He is 
back in this world now in spirit. What 
did He think of it all ? 

“Grandmother,” I said when it was 
all over — the church display, the re- 
ception, the eating and drinking, the 
dressing — “if I am ever married let it 
be in China.” 

“My dear child,” said grandmother 
in alarm, “why do you make such a 
wild request as that?” 

“Seated at a table the bride is offered 
a tiny cup of wine,” I replied, “ of which 
she takes a sip, while the bridegroom in 
a seat opposite her also sips from a simi- 
lar cup of wine. The cups are then ex- 
195 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


changed, and again tasted, and the mar- 
riage service is completed. They have 
time to think about each other, instead 
of thinking of what a grand show they 
are making for the world.” 

Grandmother looked at me in silence 
a few moments, then she said : 

“Your grandfather and I were married 
quietly in our own little home parlour. 
I was dressed in white muslin, and your 
grandfather in corduroy. We were 
thinking more about each other than 
anything else, my dear.” 

The bride and groom, Count and 
Countess de Pensier, started at once 
for the ancestral home in sunny France, 
I suppose to begin regilding the tarnished 
title Uncle Theodore spoke about. * 

Oh, be joyful! I shall not have to 
go to the “Fashionable Boarding School” 
any more! I shall not have to appear 
196 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


at a “coming out party!” I shall 
never come out now; I shall always 
stay in! Grandmother says I may stay 
in if I want to, and I do want to. I 
shall never have to steal out the back 
door in grandmother’s clothes any more, 
sing any more foreign songs, or pretend 
I am Spanish! It is lovely to be able 
to act the truth! “It is an ill wind that 
blows nobody good.” (This last is one 
of grandmother’s familiar sayings.) 

Cousin Ned has lost one of his eyes! 
Got it knocked out at the last “Play.” 


May 30th , 1 

I have made a most astounding dis- 
covery. Walking down the street yes- 
terday I saw a great placard on a wall 
announcing a lecture; subject, “ The 
Yellow Peril.” What did it mean? I 
197 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


thought / was the Yellow Pearl, and that 
nobody outside of the family knew it. 
But this was spelled p-e-r-i-1 instead 
of P-e-a-r-1. What could it mean ? I 
could go no farther, but returned at 
once to question grandmother. 

“Grandmother!” I cried, entering her 
room, “what is the yellow peril?” 

Dear grandmother’s cheeks flushed, 
and she said, “My dear child, why 
bother yourself about that?” 

“Why, grandmother, I thought when 
I overheard Aunt Gwendolin talk, that 
I was the Yellow Pearl; she called me 
such the first day I came,” I said. 
“ But on the placard it is spelled p-e-r-i-1. 
What does it mean?” 

“I am sorry you saw it,” said grand- 
mother hesitatingly. “There is too 
much being said on that subject by a 
certain class of people — It is the 
198 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


world God loves,” she added as if talking 
to herself, “ not the United States, Great 
Britain, Germany; the yellow people 
are just as dear to God as we are. The 
gentle Christ looked widely over the 
world, shed tears for it, shed blood for 
it.” 

“What does the yellow peril mean, 
grandmother?” I repeated anxiously. 

“The Mongolian races are more yellow 
than the Caucasian races,” said grand- 
mother, when forced to answer. “They 
are also more numerous, and some 
people fear that if we allow them in 
the country they may get the upper 
hand, and become a menace to our 
people. Do not think any more about 
it, Pearl. Our dear late Phillips Brooks,” 
she added after a short pause, “said, 
‘No nation, as no man, has a right to 
take possession of a choice bit of God’s 
199 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


earth, to exclude the foreigner from its 
territory, that it may live more com- 
fortably and be a little more at peace. 
But if this particular nation has been 
given the development of a certain 
part of God’s earth for universal pur- 
poses, if the world in the great march 
-of centuries is going to be richer for 
the development of a certain national 
character, built up by a larger type of 
manhood here, then for the world’s 1 
sake, for the sake of every nation that 
would pour in upon it that which would 
disturb that development, we have a 
right to stand guard over it. ’ ” 

This was a long speech for dear grand- 
mother, who is not given to speechifying, 
and I know the subject must have given 
her serious thought, or she would never 
have remembered it. 

“Is America being built up by a 
200 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


larger type of manhood, grandmother?” 
I asked. 

“Oh, my dear, I do not know, I do 
not know,” returned grandmother. 

I stopped talking to grandmother, 
because she looked worried, but I could 
not stop thinking , I am both the Yellow 
Pearl, and the yellow peril! Why am 
I here? What were four hundred mil- 
lions of us born into the world for? Is. 
yellow badness any worse than white 
badness ? 

June 20th, i 

What a heavenly time we are having, 

, grandmother, Uncle Theodore, and my- 
i self, living our nice, quiet lives without 
; distraction! Sometimes we have Pro- 
fessor Ballington in to dinner, then he 
drops in evenings quite often when he 
is not formally invited. Other old friends 
201 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


come too, enough to break the monotony. 

Chauffeur Graham was obliged to 
leave grandmother’s employ some time 
ago; indeed he has never come back 
since we returned from Mexico. He says 
it is his last term in the Medical College, 
and he has to give all the time to his 
studies. It would be nicer if he were 
around. I do not seem to care about 
going out in the automobile now at all. 
— How is one to know whether this 
new chauffeur may not run the automo- 
bile into a telegraph pole, or something, 
and kill us all ? 

June 13th, 1 

Chauffeur Graham has graduated. He 
is now Doctor Graham. Isn’t that lovely ! 
Just like a story book! Uncle Theodore 
and I went up to see him take his degree. 
My! wasn’t he fine looking! Tall, beauti- 
202 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


ful figure, and, as I said before, a hand- 
some face. Uncle Theodore is quite 
interested in him, as well as grandmother. 

On the evening of the day on which he 
received his degree, he overtook me as 
I was walking through the park, and told 
me that he had noticed me in the audi- 
ence. 

He says he is going to put in a year’s 
practice in the hospital before going to 
China. I was glad to hear that; 
it would seem rather lonesome in this 
big America without him, I really 
believe. 

Poor Cousin Ned is standing behind 
a counter downtown, selling tacks and 
shingle nails. He had to give up his 
studies on account of his eyes — the one 
eye could not stand the strain. Unluckily 
about that time his father lost his money 
in some speculation, and there was 
203 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


nothing for it but poor Ned must go to 
work. 

Another June. 

I have been so happy, and life has 
been so satisfactory that I have not 
written in my diary for many months. 
I believe it is only when one’s heart is 
so sorrowful and distracted that it must 
overflow somewhere, that one pours it 
into a diary. I have so much to say 
now that I scarcely know where to begin. 

Well, to begin at the beginning, one 
night Uncle Theodore asked Doctor Gra- 
ham to dinner, along with Professor Ball- 
ington, and another gentleman. After that 
Doctor Graham began to call quite fre- 
quently evenings — he seemed to enjoy 
grandmother’s company so much, and 
I am sure she enjoyed his. 

Well — Oh, I never can tell how it 
204 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


all came about, but I have promised 
to go to China with Dr. Graham, to 
help him learn the Chinese language. 
It is an awful language for a foreigner 
to learn, and I just could not bear the 
thought of the poor fellow having to 
wrestle with it alone. 

It was one evening we were alone in the 
drawing-room, grandmother having been 
unable to appear owing to a headache, 
that we came to the final arrangement. 

But suddenly I thought of something 
that was going to upset it all, I believed, 
— he didn’t know who I was ! 

“Oh!” I cried, “I cannot go with 
you — you will not want me — you do 
not know — that — I — am the Yellow 
Peril!” 

He smiled down at me, and raised 
my chin in the palm of his left hand — 
for he had not let me go from his right, 
205 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


although I had tried to get away — 
and said, “I expect to be very proud 
of my Yellow Pearl.” 

Now I am receiving congratulations 
which are making me feel very happy 
and proud, with the exception of Pro- 
fessor Ballington’s. I cannot help feeling 
sorry for that poor old bachelor. He 
came up to me and said: 

“My dear Miss Pearl, I had been vain 
enough to hope once that I might some- 
time call this pearl mine, but if I cannot 
do so, I do not know of any one that I 
would sooner see claim it than Doctor 
Graham. And so I say, God bless you! 
God bless you! You shall always have 
the love of an old bachelor. And in 
this world, obsessed with fever and noise, 
with the sham and superficial, may 
you always remain the genuine pearl 
you are.” 


206 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


There were tears in his voice. Why 
must every rose have a thorn? 

We are going to China, Doctor Gra- 
ham and I, my native land; the land of 
flashing poppy-blossoms, red azaleas, 
purple wistarias, blue larkspur, yel- 
low jasmine, oleanders, begonias, and 
flowering bamboos — the Flowery King- 
dom. Dr. Graham is going to establish 
a hospital, to set broken legs and bind 
up broken heads; and I am going to 
try and prevent any more of those little 
Chinese babies from being thrown out 
on the hillsides to die. 

Grandmother says if we go to China 
it ought to be to tell the Confucionists 
and Buddhists about the great Christ. 
But I believe if He went there Himself 
He would be mending broken legs, bind- 
ing up broken heads and hearts, and 
saving the little babies from being thrown 
207 


THE YELLOW PEARL 


out on the hillsides to die. Dear grand- 
mother is a standing proof to me that 
the Christ means much more to the world 
than China’s Confucius or Buddha. One 
day when she was seated in her rocking- 
chair I threw my arm around her and 
told her so. The dear old lady never 
seemed to accept my words as a personal 
compliment at all, but began, as once 
before, to sing in a low, quavering voice: 


“Let every kindred every tribe 
On this terrestrial ball, 

To Him all majesty ascribe, 
And crown Him Lord of all.” 


THE END 


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